Drabble #1 - "Looks like we'll be trapped in here for a while..."
Pairing: Stiles/Lydia
Rating: K
Summary: Stiles is a thief and Lydia is an FBI agent. Not knowing that another gang is robbing the art gallery that Stiles intends on breaking in, both Stiles and Lydia end up tied up in a room together.
Dedication: For the lovely Vicky, kuulei-nuggets on tumblr. Everyone go check her Stydia fan art, I'm in love with it!
xxx
"Looks like we'll be trapped in here for a while..."
She's gonna kill him. She's positive, absolutely sure, 100% certain that as soon as she can get her hands free, she's gonna kill him. And then arrest him.
"Oh really?" she asks rhetorically, her tone exasperated. It's been, she's guessing, almost two hours of captivity already. "I'd never thought."
He just looks at her sheepishly but it doesn't go completely unnoticed to her how he keeps bouncing one of his legs agitatedly. "Yes, I'm dead serious. We are really gonna be here for a while. It's a fact. They're not letting us go anytime soon, and it's..."
He continues rambling and Lydia huffs in annoyance, trying to free her wrists by pulling at her restraints again. It does nothing. "Then you'd better shut your mouth because I'm fed up with you already," she mutters, giving him the stink eye.
His mouth pops open as he glares at her in disbelief. "Why are you looking at me like this is my fault?"
If it weren't because of him, Lydia would have never left her house today. It was her day off, the office didn't need her and if she weren't so damn obsessed in finding the "Void thief" as people have been calling him – him, the guy sitting beside her, tied to a chair much like her not even three feet away –, she'd have never been caught in this situation.
She'd followed one of her leads by herself with no backup whatsoever. Her bosses didn't trust her theory and Lydia had been so determined to prove them wrong that she decided to do a little investigation on her own. Turns out that she was right, and that's why she was finally able to catch the mysterious Stilinski robbing an old art gallery. Or well, at least that's what they intended to do.
In the last few months she's learned how incredibly sneaky he is, how smart, how much of a mastermind really, and it all started about a year ago, when suddenly all anyone could hear on the news was how this Void guy kept robbing some of the most iconic buildings in town by himself without leaving much of a trace behind. One of the FBI's most solid, concrete lead was a very low quality picture of him in profile. Lydia is only sure that the guy beside her is him because she's spent countless hours studying the damn picture. For research, of course.
Some of her contacts had tipped her off about possible new locations for the next robbery, and that combined with all of her obsessive investigation on the guy on the last few months led her to this very building tonight. And she was right. What neither of them was expecting was that another group was also trying to rob that same art gallery and in the same night, thus why both of them are now tied up in chairs in one of the back rooms as dozens of paintings are being stolen. It's not like he could have guessed this, but whatever. Lydia is blaming this on him.
He keeps bouncing his leg more rapidly as time passes and Lydia groans loudly. "Would you stop that? It's driving me crazy."
He follows her gaze and looks down, ceasing the movement immediately. "Sorry. Bad habit."
"What, are you nervous?"
He worries his lower lip, trying again to free himself as well. "Of course I am. I don't stand a chance now."
"Of...?" she asks curiously, dying to find out more about him. She has finally caught up with him after so long, she's not letting him go anywhere without learning everything she can.
"Of getting out of here, what do you think?" he snaps, obviously frustrated. "It's you, you know?"
And that's how it starts. The way he says it makes Lydia's heart fill with pride at being recognized to be a good agent like that and Stiles, of course, notices it. He then, nervously, proceeds to explain why he does this, rob what he can every once in a while, fascinating her with how passionately he goes on a rant that she's almost sure lasts a good hour and a half about how his dad got severely injured a while back and the bills for his treatments just keep on coming, and how he's all alone in this and he didn't know what else to do. How his mother passed away when he was eight and his dad decided to leave their hometown, which turned him into a very shy, anxious, socially awkward kid who has a hard time making friends. How his job and his income barely covers a quarter of what he needs to help out his dad and how all he wants to do is help.
Before she knows it, Lydia finds herself staring at him, and after a few moments of strangely comfortable silence, she's the one telling him how she hates that no one listens to her because she's too young for her position, how her bosses disregard her theories because most of them are misogynistic pigs who won't let her have a say in anything. How Stiles, in all honesty, has been the most exciting occurrence in her life in the last year, allowing her to show off her skills and putting them to good use. They end up having a far more insightful conversation than they could have ever imagined.
"Well, you did catch me," he offers, unsure of why he'd even been consoling the one who'll be putting him away.
"Not technically," she frowns. "We're still stuck here."
He looks around as he can and scans the small room, alert. "Are you hearing anything?"
They'd been so distracted with each other that they had almost forgot other people were there with them. "No. I don't think I've heard a sound for a while, actually."
Stiles considers doing it because he knows he can. He's done it a few times before. And in reality, it might be his only chance to be able to get away from this in the end. "Can you free your hands?" he asks, studying her.
Lydia shakes her head. "No, the knot is too tight."
"Okay, I think there's something I can do to free myself but I'll make some noise. Do you think they'll hear?"
She replies honestly, assessing their options. "I don't know. They might have already left, but they might be just behind that door or somewhere else in the building, so I don't know. What are you gonna do?"
He teases her out of nervousness. "Are you scared I'll leave you behind?"
She scoffs. "No. Just curious." He raises an eyebrow at her. "Someone would find me eventually, you know? I don't need your help."
He grins. "I'll just leave you, then. Alright." She watches him carefully as he grounds himself properly, shifting all of his weight onto his feet and getting up from the wood chair, elevating it from the floor as he does so, then jumping and falling behind, breaking it. All he has to do then is untie the rope from his wrists, rubbing them softly as he waits to hear some movement from the hallway. There's nothing. He turns to her. "So, need a hand?"
"What do you get out of this?" she asks bluntly.
"Of untying you?" She nods. "Nothing. It's the right thing to do, okay? But I can always just leave you here and..."
"Just untie me already, Stilinski!"
He freezes. He wasn't aware that she knew his name. "H- How did you...?"
"I may not know a lot of things about you, but that's one of the few I'm aware of. What kind of name is Stiles, anyway?"
He doesn't move for a moment in pure shock, but soon he's swallowing dryly and making his way to stand behind her and get rid of the rope that's around her wrists. He did know she was smart, he shouldn't be surprised. "I thought you didn't know that," he murmurs. "But I guess it makes sense that you'd want to know the name of the man you're trying to catch, I guess." He lets her stand and soothe the pain on her skin as she gently massages her wrists before extending his arms in her direction, giving in. "And by the way, it's a nickname."
He's so much taller than her that he could easily take her, but instead he's just surrendering. It surprises both of them when she doesn't take the opportunity. "What does the M stand for?"
"What?" How does she know that?
"The M? M. Stilinski? I can't find it anywhere."
Stiles grins again despite himself. At least there's one thing he was able to keep a secret from her. "Wouldn't you like to know..."
She can't help the way her lips turn up at the corners, and she has to turn around to hide it from him. His playful tone caught her off guard. "I would, actually. But I'd also like to get out of here, so that can wait." She faces him again when she's sure her facial expression won't betray her. She's so not falling for him. "Are you up for a little compromise?"
He smirks. He smirks, goddammit! She most certainly did not just squeeze her thighs together because of that. "Only if it ends up in marriage," he says smugly, earning a playful roll of eyes from her. Stiles still notices the way her cheeks turn pink almost immediately.
"Do you want to get out of here or not?"
It takes them another hour to escape a building where they've been alone for a while, all the other robbers long gone. Stiles and Lydia had been locked up, the door barred and it took both of their geniuses, banter and one too many ideas thrown in the air until they came up with a solution. In the end, they find themselves in the dead of night standing awkwardly on the badly lit alley behind the building for a few moments too long, both debating with themselves on what to do next.
Impressively, Lydia is the first to move, taking a step back and away from him. When he looks at her in confusion, Lydia shrugs her shoulders. "You helped me. You didn't have to do that." Another step back. "Just promise me you'll at least try and find out another way of helping your dad or I might just have to arrest you next time."
Stiles has a snarky remark for that, but instead he just nods, grateful. "I promise."
She gives him a small smile and takes a few more steps back, eventually turning around to leave. Lydia tries her best to ignore the way she feels emptier with every step she takes away from him.
"And Martin?" he shouts from behind her, making her look over her shoulder. She wasn't aware he knew her name either. "Thank you."
She doesn't hear of him again for months until one late afternoon when she's about to leave her office to go home, in a mood and completely exhausted after a big case they'd closed that week, flowers are delivered to her, a little card hidden in the bouquet.
Heard about your promotion. I'm glad to know they're finally listening to you. And I also thought you'd like to know I've been staying out of trouble. Got a second job, so we're managing. It's a shame, though. I was looking forward to seeing you again. Maybe if you find me, you could come visit?
It's signed with only one word that starts with M. She's eager to go to work the next morning.
xxx
A/N: Feel free to leave me a review to let me know what you thought of the story.
Until next time xx
Susana