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Derek could remember the first time he’d seen Lydia as clear as if it was yesterday. It was the middle of summer, and he was ten years old, playing in the backyard with his sisters. It was hot out, so hot, and instead of taking them to the lake, Peter (who was babysitting) had insisted that they could have just as much fun running through the sprinkler instead. And it was fun. For about fifteen minutes. But Derek and Laura were quickly bored, and ended up laying under the spray as Cora (who was barely five) continued to slip and slide through the wet grass around them.
Everything was calm.
Then suddenly, without warning, his heart started to race in his chest. Derek could smell fear and panic on the air, could hear a rapid little heart beat as if it were right next to him. Without thinking twice he’d launched himself towards the woods, following the scents and sounds. He had slid to a stop in front of a wooden fence, peering over the top just in time to watch a woman pull a little red-headed girl out of the in-ground pool. The little girl was coughing up water, and then she began to cry, her arms wrapped tightly around the woman Derek assumed was her mother. The heartbeat in Derek’s ears had slowed, and the fear was now mixed with relief.
“There’s something different about that little girl…” Derek flinched, glaring at Peter over his shoulder. Even back then, Peter had a different way of looking at Lydia… some kind of combination of creepy, calculating and down right evil.
“You stay away from her!” Derek growled, not sure why he cared about this little girl, but definitely sure he didn’t like the way Peter was looking at her. The fact that his uncle had just smirked at him, following him silently through the woods, all judge-y and annoying-like had only made it worse.
From then on, Derek was always aware of the little girl’s heart beat. No matter where he was, he could sense it, beating in time with his. It didn’t take long for him to figure it out. What she was to him. Before the fire, he would watch her sometimes, playing in her backyard, pretending to be the Little Mermaid in her pool. He just wanted to make sure she was safe.
The heart beat had never gone away. Not when he started high school, not when he fell in love with Paige, not even after the fire.
He’d known she’d been bitten. Her heart rate had skyrocketed, and Derek had been filled with fear once again. She could’ve died. And all he could think was that Peter had bit her on purpose.
To get to him.
And then he himself had been close to killing her. It hadn’t been difficult to believe that Derek’s soulmate would be a homicidal lizard. His life tended to be a never ending spiral of disasters, so why not throw that it.
When she drugged him with wolfsbane… that was the first time they’d ever been face to face. And God was she beautiful. He’d never really noticed before. As a kid, he’d simply been protective. But then, seeing her all grown up with her scent washing over him… that’s when he really knew. She was the one. The end all, be all for both him and his inner wolf.
Of course it couldn’t just be easy. They both had to date a couple of murderers along the way, you know, normal bumps in the road. And Derek was waiting, waiting for her to grow up, waiting for her to be ready for him. He’d taken babysteps, finally allowing himself to be friends with her, showing her that he was smart too. She’d started coming to the loft to do homework, books spread across his table, empty coffee cups and bottles of water scattered among them.
She’d never liked Braeden. That much was obvious to Derek. Lydia didn’t trust easily, and she’d never quite forgiven Braeden for her shady behavior and money over everything past. Because along with being smart, beautiful and immune… Lydia Martin was above all honorable.
He’d missed her when she left for college. Braeden had been pleased to have the loft to themselves (“Finally, no more teenage mutants hanging around.”), and that may have been what started to turn Derek from her. He loved those kids, each and every one of them. They were his pack, and it was something Braeden just couldn’t understand.
And then it happened.
Scott and Malia had come by the loft (they were the only two who still lived at home. Scott was at community college, and Malia was working for the Park Services) to see him. They were attacked on the way in, and Derek had thrown himself in front of his alpha and his cousin, taking the bullets meant for them. They’d taken the attackers out easily (rogue hunters), but Braeden had flipped her lid, berating Derek for risking his life again and again for a bunch of kids. So Derek had kicked her out. He’d had enough.
And then Lydia had come home for Thanksgiving.
It was stronger now, his connection to her. He could sense her emotions, all of them. Her heart beat in sync with his naturally. And he couldn’t hold back anymore.
He’d woken up early the next morning, his arms wrapped around the very naked Lydia Martin. Her head was on his chest, her red hair tickling his bare skin. She needed to be his.
But Derek was afraid. So he’d woken her up and dressed quietly, telling her to call him later. He didn’t want to scare her away, didn’t want to force her into anything. And Lydia had smiled and nodded, pulling him down for a long kiss before he climbed back out the window.
But she never called.
She didn’t even text him.
A month had gone by, and Derek was a mess. It didn’t help that someone (coughStilescough) had planned a Christmas Party at the loft for tonight. Why were they always insisting on having parties for everything? Couldn’t they do these things at their own houses? Couldn’t they not invite Lydia?
Because Derek didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to handle these things. Which led to him slumping on the couch while Stiles and Scott danced around putting up Christmas decorations. He considered just leaving before the party started. He doubted anyone would notice anyways. But then Isaac started lugging in crates of Wolfsbane infused alcohol (he really should have never told them about that), and he came up with a better idea. For once in his life he was going to have fun, let loose, and get embarrassingly drunk.
It was a pretty great plan if he might say so himself. He was on the dance floor with Stiles, Danny and Malia, had managed to avoid Lydia all night, and didn’t even care that someone was dancing on his designer coffee table. But then Jackson showed up.
It shouldn't have mattered, but the damn kid (his first beta after all) had zeroed in on it in seconds. He’d beelined for Derek from Lydia’s side, his eyes narrowed.
“Heyyyyy Jackie!” Stiles had cheered, wrapping a jubilant arm around him, earning a snarl from Jackson and a giggle from Danny.
“Derek. We need to talk.” Jackson curled a hand around Derek’s arm, dragging him into a quiet corner of the room before he could protest. Although in his current drunken state, he wasn't so sure he could’ve stopped the younger man if he tried. “What’s going on with you and Lydia?” Derek blinked at Jackson, raising an eyebrow.
“Um… what do ya -hic- mean?” Derek asked, leaning heavily against the wall. He felt… dizzy. Dizzy and confused.
“I mean,” Jackson leaned over him, eyes darting around to make sure no one was listening. “How your heart beats are synchronized!” Derek’s eyes widened slightly. No one had ever noticed before. Maybe it was because Jackson had been gone for almost four years. Or maybe it was because he was more attuned to Lydia than anyone else.
“Huh?” Derek asked slowly, continuing to blink at Jackson. The younger man rolled his eyes and sighed exasperatedly.
“Dude - I may not be a born wolf, but I’ve learned a thing or two from my pack in London…” When Derek didn’t respond, he continued. “My alphas are a mated pair, which is rare for two alphas. But not as rare as a werewolf and a human.” Derek took another sip of his vodka and cranberry, trying to think of some kind of response to this. He couldn't lie, because Jackson would know.
“She doesn’t know.” He settled on finally, running a free hand through his hair. “I thought… I wanted to tell her but… she’s just…”
“Terrifying. I know.” Jackson kind of smirked, the closest thing Derek had ever seen to a genuine smile on the kid’s face. “And as much as I’m not exactly a fan of her dating anyone… You’re pretty much the only person who could handle her.” But then Jackson’s hand tightened on his arm, eyes turning dark and threatening. “You make her cry… and you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”
At this Derek scoffed, raising his eyebrows.
“You’ve made her cry more than anyone else, I wouldn’t worry about me.” He pushed back into the crowd, heading towards the drinks. Talking to Jackson had killed the buzz he was working on, and he couldn’t have that. Not when Lydia was walking around in a dark red velvet dress that reminded him of blood just a little bit but also made him think of sex. Mostly sex. She was doing a pretty good job of avoiding him as well, and Derek just wanted to know why. Why didn’t she call? Why didn’t she want him? Why couldn’t things just go his way for once?
“Who wants to do karaoke?!?!?” Stiles was yelling as the music suddenly cut out, clapping his hands and fluttering around Danny, who was attempting to get the game set up. Derek shook his head and sipped at his new drink, feeling slightly embarrassed for Stiles. Who obviously went first. And sang a traumatizing rendition of I Feel Like A Woman by Shania Twain.
Some girl Derek didn’t know followed up by singing Party in The U.S.A., and suddenly the party was in motion again, with people dancing and singing along with santa hats and reindeer antlers and christmas lights blinking merrily. And Derek was feeling it for once, he was actually getting a little pumped up.
Which may have been the reason that he ended up singing Bye, Bye, Bye, side by side with Stiles, Scott, Isaac and Danny. And that may have been the reason he was dancing like an idiot in front of everyone. And that may have been the reason he sang Hurt So Good by himself, complete with air guitar and hip thrusting and maybe even some finger pointing.
Which led to Stiles clapping him on that back and declaring loudly,
“Derek Hale actually knows how to have fun!” and proceeding to drag him out into the middle of the dance floor. And then Derek was dancing with girls and guys and holding his drink in the air and cheering when someone decided to sing some Fifty Cent. He was definitely not aware of what Lydia was doing. Definitely didn’t notice that she was dancing with Kira and Malia, their bodies pressed tight against each other. He definitely wasn’t jealous and he definitely didn't think she was sexy. And he definitely didn’t flush when she caught him staring.
She made her way through the crowd towards him, her eyes dangerous. She draped her arms around his neck when she reached him, her lithe little body moving against his in time to the music. Derek wondered if anyone else could see it, if they could tell that their bodies were made to fit against each other. He placed his free hand on the small of her back, pulling her hips closer to his. Her velvet dress was soft beneath his fingers, and he wanted to run his hands over her curves, feel the contrast between her silky skin and the fabric. He wanted to kiss her slow and heated, to peel that dress off her body and worship her like he was meant to. He wanted to watch her fall asleep in his arms, to wake up with her the next morning, every morning for the rest of his life.
Instead, he got to feel her nails digging into the back of his neck as she hissed,
“We need to talk.” into his ear.
“No kidding.” Derek raised an eyebrow, still having enough wits about him to act like an ass. She backed him slowly through the dancing mob, before grabbing his arm and dragging him out of his apartment and into the cool stairwell. Derek considered just pushing her up against a wall and kissing her until she begged for more, but thought better of it. Instead, he just stared at her, arms crossed, scowl on his face, pretending that he couldn’t feel the effects of the wolfsbane.
“You need to tell me what’s going on.” Lydia demanded, her hands clenched into fists as she glared at him.
“What are you talking about?” Derek sighed, running a hand through his hair before leaning one shoulder against the brick wall. Her eyes narrowed as she studied him, and Derek could smell it, the way her body was physically reacting to his. Victory.
“Don’t play dumb Hale. I’ve already done the research and have a pretty solid understanding of what is happening here. I’m just waiting for you to be the man you claim you are and tell me straight out.” He just bit his lip and watched her for a moment, debating his next move. He could just come out and tell her, like a respectful rational adult. Or… there was option B.
He took a step towards her, smirking when she stepped back slightly. He did it again, taking small steps until she was backed up against the wall. Her heart was racing, but she wasn’t scared. Arousal was seeping out of her pores, and judging by the scowl on her face, she wasn’t happy about it. Placing a hand on either side of her head, Derek leaned over her, inhaling deeply as he dragged his nose up her neck.
“What exactly have you been researching Miss Martin,” he asked innocently, following the same path up her neck with his tongue. He smirked when she whimpered quietly, her head tilting to the side and exposing her throat to him.
“You did something to me.” It was probably supposed to be an accusation, but it came out more like a question. “You… are you really going to make me say it?” Derek smiled against her skin, before pulling back so he could smirk down on her.
“Say what?”
She huffed and stamped one high heel clad foot, arms crossed tightly.
“I read about this Derek! About how you’ve probably felt a connection to me since the first time we met! How you can hear my heartbeat all the time! How our hearts probably beat in sync! How since I’m not a werewolf, I can’t feel the connection until the first time you kiss me. And then it’s like all hell breaks lose and I can’t even go five seconds without thinking about your smile or your ass or the way you look when you’re sleeping! How I can feel when you're stressed or scared. How I can’t understand how I didn’t have these intense feelings until all of a-”
Derek cut her off by pressing his lips against hers, heat curling in his stomach when she moaned quietly, her body arching against his. His wolf howled triumphantly inside, and Derek knew his eyes were burning blue. But he didn't care. Not when Lydia's hands were pushing up under his shirt, her tongue tracing the lines of his lips. Before he could think twice he lifted her with one arm, hand gripping her velvet covered ass. Thundering down the steps he sucked lazily on her neck, kicking open the door of the apartment Isaac started renting from him.
"We're still gonna talk about this Derek," Lydia half moaned when he pushed her up against the fridge, her legs tightly wrapped around his waist.
"We can talk about anything you want doll," Derek growled pulling away from the fridge and tossing her gently onto the bed. "After I rock your world."
"Rock my world?" Lydia snorted, lips lifting into a smirk. "Really Hale?"
Instead of answering, Derek lowered himself onto the bed, laying a soft line of kisses along her collarbone as he undid the zipper beneath her arm. Taking his time, he started to slide the velvet straps down her arms, returning his lips to hers for a heated kiss.
“I will NOT be smelling you two in my bed for the next week, or so help me God.” The sound of Isaac’s voice had Derek glaring over his shoulder, contemplating ripping his throat out. The kid should know better than to interrupt him.
“God Derek, I didn’t mean you should tell her right now,” Jackson appeared beside Isaac, arms crossed and a smug look on his stupid face.
“Wait. He knows?” Lydia hissed, pushing Derek back onto his knees and pulling her dress back into place.
“Knows what?” Isaac seemed confused, looking between Derek and Jackson, toying with the ends of his ever present scarf. (It was a christmas scarf for the party, which only clashed horribly with Isaac’s personality. Derek suspected it had everything to do with Stiles.)
“What are you two doing down here anyways?” Derek growled, refusing to get up off the bed, and attempting to turn the conversation away from him.
“Does it really matter? It is my apartment.” Isaac rolled his eyes. “I was showing Jackson my digs.”
“Since when are you two friends?” Derek asked, raising his brows.
“Since we were the only two people not making complete fools of ourselves upstairs.” Jackson answered as though it was obvious. Derek wanted to punch him in the face. Just for fun. Just then, the sounds of the entire party starting to sing a raucous version of Holly Jolly Christmas filtered down from the floor above them. Derek scowled, but then he saw the way Lydia’s face lit up, and he realized she was wearing jingle bell earrings and silver and red ribbon in her hair and her shoes had white and red lights in the heels. She loved Christmas. And (not that he’d admit it) Derek loved her.
“Come on doll,” he said softly, earning gagging noises from the boys as he pulled her off the bed. “Let’s go back to the party.”
Derek awoke the next morning to utter silence. It was weird, after so much singing and yelling and cheering the night before, to wake up and hear only a slow heartbeat and quiet breathing. Lydia was curled in bed beside him, still wearing her party attire. She was beautiful. And he was almost positive that she was his. Finally.
“Lydia,” he whispered her name, shaking her arm gently. “Lydia.”
It was amazing to watch really, the way her eyes fluttered open, a sleepy smile gracing her lips when she looked at him.
“Hi…” Her voice was gravelly with sleep and Derek immediately wanted to kiss her. So he did.
“Hi,” he murmured against her lips, running his fingers down her arm. “I just wanted to tell you that… that you’re beautiful.” She actually flushed slightly, her dimples clearly visible. “And that you’re more than welcome to all my clothes… if you wanted something more comfortable to sleep in.”
Lydia hummed quietly, her fingers tracing down his chest.
“I think I want this shirt,” she whispered, her smirk turning mischievous. Her fingers traveled up to his jaw, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, and then she was pulling him towards her, pulling his bottom lip between her teeth, throwing her leg over his hips.
Derek smiled to himself as she rolled on top of him, her lips and tongue and teeth on his neck making it hard to concentrate. But as he effortlessly slipped her dress from her body, his hands finally getting her smooth skin beneath them, Derek knew. He’d finally done something right. He’d finally gotten something good. Lydia Martin had saved him.