News flash: hidden giggles and piercing lies

Alex, with her brain fogged by alcohol, can’t stop the giggle that seems to shake her entire body. Glass after glass, perhaps there were some shots involved because at one point Stiles comes out of nowhere with a bottle of tequila in one hand and shooter glasses in the other, and how he manages to pick the all in one hand it was beyond her imagination.

She can count up to six people. Anne on who she leans against at the moment, almost flatting the girl on the couch they were currently sitting, Stiles, who flails his arms in a pathetic attempt at dancing, Derek who keeps calling Stiles names and Allison and Lydia, both drunk, leaning against each other as if their life depends on it.

This behavior, the show they pull it could easily drive the paparazzi crazy. Now they could be the most wanted band in the world, top on Billboard and the next second they could become the main attraction for those sick shows that loves to rub dirt in your face in such way you would never mentally recover from.

This is Hollywood, and like Charlie and the chocolate factory, you have to behave or you would be eliminated in a blink of an eye.

Alex lets out a giggle, though it’s filled with sadness because this? The reason they are on this boat is to do the exact thing she loathed; divulge to the world the flaw of a person that has too much audience, because even though Miranda had never pointed out what exactly she wants, Anne and Alex both knew the unspoken request. The human world is a horrible place to live in; they all love drama, love to see people suffering, loves fights and wars, hates when some are lucky, either by fate or by their own struggling to get there; loathes genuine smiles and happiness; some humans are worse than animals, she thinks.

Bitter taste fills her mouth at the thought, the giggle stops and she chances a glance at Derek then at Stiles. All she could see were two normal people, who were haunted by the past, or still are, but nevertheless just two normal human beings.

She doesn’t realize when she is pulled standing from the couch, but by the time her brains reboots, two strong arms are wrapped around her waist and she can hear whistles, giggles and cheers from the table.

Stiles is grinning like an idiot, face and neck flushed red, a hand pressed flat on her lower back while the other one having her hand in a tight grip.

“What are you doing?” she hisses with eyes wide and head tilted almost painfully, because now she realizes that the guy is very tall comparing to her height.

“Dancing.” He smiles back with those brown eyes sparkling and eager and for a moment she feel drawn to them.

“There is no music idiot.” She states, trying to push away from his grip but in vain because if possible, he pulls her closer. Her teeth grits and blood rushes to her face.

“Now there is!” she hears a voice shouting from somewhere on her right and by queue music rings loud through the restaurant.

In her line of sight Aiden comes grinning with a bottle of champagne and Lydia calls his name, rising from her seat to meet the man.

Both Stiles and Alex turn to watch him; Alex frowning and Stiles grinning, still glued to her, or her to him; she doesn’t even know because she suddenly feels dizzy. It could be from the alcohol or from the fact that Stiles smells surprisingly good, but she sways for a bit and Stiles, tightens the hold on her back, the act forcing her to look back at him.

“No worries, no one will say anything.” Aiden announces, wrapping his arms around Lydia’s shoulders.

“Oh really? And how did you managed that?” Lydia questions, voice slurry, one eyebrow rising delicately.

“Let’s say I persuaded the manager to leave us the restaurant until the morning.” He winks and kisses Lydia’s head.

“Ah.” She smiles, gives him a chaste kiss on his lips then grabs the bottle of champagne from his hand.

“Oh so we will party!” Allison smiles and claps her hands in a very childish way that makes Alex chuckle.

Stiles glances at the sound through heavy lidded eyes and his lips drop in a fond smile which makes Alex blush, her head lowering. She doesn’t know what it is, what makes this whole thing feel almost unreal. She refuses to look at him as a human being, she refuses to let her brain get poisoned with Stiles so she pushes softly from his arms, not meeting his eyes, and she doesn’t know if she should feel disappointed or relieved when Stiles let’s her go.

Her body drops back on the end of the couch, head thrown back as she exhales long and loud, a breath she didn’t even know she has been holding for so long. She glances at Anne, who looks at her with a worried look and for a moment she thinks she can also see a sorry, written deep down in her eyes, but just for a very short moment, before Anne’s hand comes to grab her's in a reassuring grip. Behind Anne, on the back of the couch, there is a strong muscled arm, fingers tapping in perfect sync with the music’s beat. Derek is watching Lydia and Aiden, with a large smile on his face, as they swirl on the dancing floor and Stiles and Allison, both dancing stupidly as if there is no one around them to care.

And Alex can’t, for the sake of it, find the real reason why they are here.

People are strange, they tend to gainsay themselves by nature. A path initially chosen is very often questioned. A truth spoken in anger is quickly covered with lie. A lie said in rage is dismissed just as fast by fear. We are contradictory creatures. We never stick to a plan. In fact, the only thing consistent about us is our habit of being surprised by our own nature.

We live to lie to ourselves.

And though she’d like to think of herself as being a cut above the rest, right now the farthest thing from Anne’s mind is a moral dilemma topped with an existential conundrum. She is distantly aware that she managed to dodge a bullet, semi sober and semi coherent as she was, but the half spoken truth still haunts her. She’s set herself farther from him, glued herself to Alex, and has tried (and failed) to seem like the carefree drunken girl that was enjoying the party earlier. But everything is just a little bit too forced; the smile too wide, the gulps of her drink too full, and her laugh too loud … like she is trying to drown out every single thought inside of her. She looks to Alex briefly, and thinks that perhaps she’s gotten away with it when her friend seems caught up in some retelling of a locker-room prank Stilled pulled on somebody named Jackson. And for a moment she breathes a silent sigh of relief.

The frown that camped out on her forehead earlier however is her tell , she realizes, when a slightly more-than-tipsy Derek crowds her space and brushes the tip of his thumb over her forehead. He frowns, confused and unfocused, and she simply stares back at him – half perplexed and half shock frozen. She realizes then that he’s caged her in, the strong arm resting carefree on the back of the sofa, and the irritatingly gentle way his other one was now cupping the side of her face.
She frowns and narrows her eyes at him, and he sighs.
“What are you doing, Derek?” she asks, her voice the very definition of calm and detached ad she inwardly cringes at herself at what a big tell that is.

“You shouldn’t frown. You look much better when you smile.” He says and smiled dopily at her, and for a moment Anne freezes entirely .

“Oh boy …” she says, trying to counter with humor”How much did this guy drink?” she asks and turns to the equally perplexed audience who at this point look as lost and as scared as she feels. She doesn’t miss the utterly horrified looks of fear his friends seem to sport like it’s their fucking team colors, and she also doesn’t miss the way Lydia grips her glass that much tighter.

“M’ not drunk.” He says and slightly tilts his head to the side and slowly starts to lean in, and in a moment of sheer panic Anne counters this move with a perhaps-to-firm (and maybe a bit too painful) palm in his face.

“Oh hey there!” Anne says, pushing against the mans nose , and managing to tilt his head at what she thinks could only be an uncomfortable angle. “Easy there Der’, at least buy the ticket before you go for second base.” Derek groans against the heel of her palm and then looks exasperatly towards Stiles
“And she likes baseball too!” he says, like that’s the cherry on top of his nightmare cake

And isn’t that surprising and not to mention confusing because by the time Derek finished his little and completely out of character, show, Stiles is watching Alex with a look in his eyes she can’t, for the sake of it, read. And wasn’t she supposed to be the one that could read people like an opened book?

“Come on big guy.” Lydia pushes Aiden on the side to go and grab Derek. Allison was smiling softly at Derek as she went to aid Lydia.

“I don’t wanna.” Derek pouts, failing to push Lydia’s hands away from him as he sways on his legs.

“Aiden? Little help here?” Lydia arches a brow at her boyfriend who watches amused from the side, bottle of champagne in hand, but goes to help anyway, pushing the said bottle into Stiles hands, snapping him out of his gaze.

Alex has this urge to shake her head, but instead she turns her head back towards Anne. The girls has her eyes grown wide, still froze in her spot, the hand that touched Derek’s face clenching and unclenching in her lap. Alex groans, brings a hand to brush at her face before grabbing Anne’s other hand that lies limply on the couch.

It’s her turn to squeeze it, and when Anne finally locks eyes with her, she sighs.

“Party’s over.” Alex smiles and Anne nods, getting up and around the table.

“It was fun.” She mumbles, the bids everyone good night in a very low voice before she storms out.

Alex watches her go and she knows her too well than to follow, so she sighs, runs a hand over her face one more time before turning.

“Is she going to be ok?” Allison asks, eyes shadowed by the alcohol but with a smile still plastered on her doll face. There is worry in her voice and Alex can’t stop the smile from stretching her lips at the way her friend seemed to radiate with so much kindness, it was almost sickening.

“Anne?” Alex snorts, finger pointing behind her. “She is as strong as a block of marble. Don’t worry, the alcohol made everyone stupid tonight.” Alex laughs then, dropping a hand over Allison’s shoulders. “You should worry about Scotty being all alone in bed.” She winks and Allison turns scarlet red before she pushes Alex playfully.

“Idiot.” She barks, a dimple smile across her drunken face before she nods and kisses Alex cheek.


She sits there, alone, eyes searching something, yet nothing. Lydia mumbles somewhere near the Dj box, perhaps cursing judging the tone of her voice before she suddenly jerks her head up and calls Alex.

“What?”

“How you turn this off?” she asks, curses again as fingers twists and turns the buttons on the console which makes the volume go high, then down, then the music fast forwards before going very slow. If it was under different circumstances Alex would have probably been on the floor, clutching at her stomach, laughing so hard it hurt. But now she couldn’t afford such thing since they would probably end up paying for the whole system and by the looks of it, perhaps an year of work would barely cover the expenses.

“Lydia just leave it be, turn the volume down and-“she was cut off when someone calls from across the room.

“Ladies.” A strong, annoyed voice is then followed by a tanned man, with a body deemed of a god, strong muscled arms folded across his chest, completely dressed in white and bare foot.

Lydia doesn’t seem to notice him as she keeps on playing around with the console. Alex, never leaving her eyes off the man, slaps Lydia hard.

“What do you……want.” She shouts before her words die out at the sight of such human. She barely contains a whistle when Alex grips her hand and drags her body in front of hers. “Deal with him.” She whispers in her ear before she shoves her out the Dj box.

“I can take care of that miss-”

“Lydia!” she doesn’t even let him finish his sentence; doesn’t even wait to see if he asks for her name before she offers hers. Alex slaps her face as she sinks further out of his annoyed face and into the Dj box. “Jesus Christ Lydia.” She mumbles behind the palm of her hand.

“My name is Lydia.” She hold a hand, smiling sweet and innocent. The man stares at the hand long before he hesitantly accepts it. The shake is short yet firm and Alex winces slightly, hoping she won’t end up paying for her friend’s recklessness.

“Sebastian.” He says, pulling his hand away to shove it in the pocket of his linen pants. “May I be of assistance with anything Miss Lydia?” he asks, and surprisingly he is very polite, the annoyance from his voice replaced with one strictly professional. His eyes briefly glance towards Alex and she ducks her head behind a thin pillar in the lame attempt at hiding. “Could your friend come out from the Dj box so we won’t produce damage further than what had been done?” he asks Lydia who turns and smiles forcefully.

“Of course. Alex?!” she calls, smiling one more time at the man before she turns and throws a look at Alex who comes slowly out of her hiding place.

“Sorry.” She mumbles, not meeting his eyes.

“There is nothing to be sorry about ladies, but if you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing at this hour?” he glances at his watch. “It’s long passed the closing hours.”

The girls both glance at each other before they glance around, noticing that no one else was around them. Traitors, Alex thinks as her still alcohol soaked brain tries to look for an excuse.

“It’s my friend’s birthday!” Lydia, bless her overly genius brain, grabs Alex by the shoulders and squeezes, a smile plastered on her face as Alex watches her with amazed eyes before she nods dumbly at the man.

He watches them suspiciously, obviously waiting for more than that.

“You see, my friends doesn’t know her, and she was sad that no one knew it was her birthday so I thought of making her a surprise!” she continues, explaining, hands squeezing harder that Alex almost wants to shout at her friend and pull away from her grip.

“So, the whole table behind me is the result of you two partying?” he asks, a hand waving in the direction of the table and both girls lean on a side to stare at the mess on it, obviously filled with too much alcohol for two ladies to drink. There is an amusing glitter in his eyes when Alex locks hers with his and she knows they were busted. Such a sharp mind he has.

“Lydia, never mind.” She shakes her friend’s hands from her shoulders, taking a step away from her. “I am sorry for the mess we had made. We just wanted to stay a bit more and party.” Alex admits. “The manager left us be with the promise that we won’t touch anything.” She glares at Lydia who shrugs and starts playing with her hair as if she was as innocent as a nun. “But as you can see, the promise has been broken.”


The man watches them for what feels like hours before he nods, brings his hand and pinches the bridge of his nose in disbelief.

“I understand.” He says bringing his hand down to shove it in the pocket of his pants. He sways for a bit front and back, before he smiles. He fucking smiles; large and toothy and it’s as if the motion is only to hide some of his amusement.

“Ladies” he starts before Alex can open her mouth and say something stupid, and in a way she feels relieved he doesn't give her the chance. “My name is Sebastian Stan, I will be the manager of this deck from now on, so if you have any requests you can come to me. If they are within the terms of this boat I will be gladly to approve, if not then I will kindly hope for your understanding.”

Alex and Lydia shares a look before Lydia takes a step forward towards him. “I do have a request.” She asks, fingers still twirling a lock of strawberry hair and Alex wants to slap her over the head because that is so not a way to approach the manager of the place they had been hanging out since the beginning of this cruise.

“A friend of mine is having an engagement party the day after tomorrow and I would like to know until what time we could…party?” she smiles slyly and Alex rolls her eyes hard it almost hurts.

The guy – Sebastian – doesn’t look fazed by the small act Lydia was pulling and Alex had to be amazed at how strong the man could be. After all, Lydia was a heart breaker when it came to men, and she could literally have anyone, so Alex was amazed by his ability to be completely immune to her friend. Sharp mind and strong character.

“If you rent the whole restaurant then it can be yours as long as you want. Those are the terms.” He answers politely, head tilted slightly on the side.

“And what about music, drinks and food?”

“It’s included in the price.” He briefly glances at Alex who flinches and flicks her eyes on Lydia. However she could still feel his gaze on her since Lydia was having her head down, thinking things through, so the act wouldn't come out as disrespectful. It made her feel uncomfortable though.

“Lydia, could we talk about this tomorrow.” Alex whispers, closing the distance between her friends before she looks out the window. The sun was already warning its appearance from the horizon, dark clouds being lighted by its rays into a mixture of orange, purple and yellow colors.

“Right right. Um…so, Sebastian, may I call you Sebastian?” she smiles, eyes bloodshot by tiredness.

“Of course.” He nods. “Tomorrow then?” he bows and Alex squints her eyes at him while Lydia giggles and bows back. Alex just rolls her eyes again and pulls Lydia with a sigh, finally being able to drop dead in bed.

“He is cute!” Lydia looks over her shoulder, letting herself get dragged by Alex towards the room’s deck.

“He is the manager Lyds!” Alex hisses, one eye larger than the other as she looks at her friend.

“So what?”

Alex groans and slaps a hand over her face. It doesn’t take long before they reach Lydia’s room, because Alex needs to make sure, for the sake of her own consciousness, that her friend is safe and sound in the confinement of the room. She almost wants to kiss Aiden for being there when they reach the room, opening the door as if he was expecting them, and grabs a very giggling Lydia before bidding good bye to Alex.
She leans against the wall, head banging a bit too hard on the surface, head exploding into a horrible headache. Exhaustion kicks in when she brings her hands to rub at her temples.

She stays some time, watching the clouds gather slowly into a big dark one, the rays of sun quickly replaced by silver, luminous cracks that blinks one after the other and she knows that’s her signal to retreat in her room.

By the time she gets near room, droplets of ice cold water splashes against the deck and the boat sways heavier than before. She watches the waves grow larger and angrier by the minute and there is this sudden want to go near the railing and watch them up close.

One step she takes and something grabs her arms and yanks her back forcing a yelp out of her.

“What the hell are you doing?” Stiles turns her by the shoulders and gives a shake of her body, making the alcohol and headaches mix together into a very strong dizziness. His eyes are heavy and clouded, perhaps by alcohol as he frowns at her. “You are drunk, it’s dangerous to be near the railing!” He accuses.

Alex, drunk all over again from the swaying of the cruise, smiles dumbly at him, hands flatting over his chest before gripping the fabric there to steady her body from swaying.

“And you are not, idiot?” she frowns at her hands, unclenches them and shoves him away before storming into her room.

“Ok, just calm down.” The annoyingly calm voice on the receiving end says, and Anne tries to resist the urge to roll her eyes at it before she realizes that for once he can’t see her doing it. “Don’t roll your eyes at me.”

“Ok, that’s creepy.” She says, and he stifles back a snicker. It’s higher than you’d expect from a man like him; childish and carefree, and for the briefest of moments Anne forgets everything that’s wrong with the world around her. He lips stretch with a mind of their own against the torrent of his laughter, and the air somehow becomes a little bit easier to breathe. “Thank you.” She says after a few moments of toneless silence, long after the laughter dimmed down and collapsed on itself.

“So gay.”

“This from the man that sent robots on asteroids. “ she counters drily

“Oh fuck you, my skill set is not dependable on my maturity.” The voice says, mock arrogance, and she knows instantly that he’s doing it on purpose; he’s trying to center her through the eye of her storm.

“Tell me …” she says in a way that has her leering at the receiver “ – do they actively search for the most childish prodigies or is it somehow a packaged deal? “

“What, like buy one get one free ? And amazing sense of humor free with every 200 IQ points?” he scoff , and she chuckles.

“Well, I wouldn’t say amazing …”

“You would-“
“Or go as far as to call that thing you do a sense of humor –“

“Hey! Uncool-“

“But yeah, something like that.” She finally says, and sits on the side of her bed, staring out the tiny cubbyhole that passes as a window.

“Package deal, sweetheart.” He says back, and in the background she distantly makes out the sound of a plastic bag being opened and ripped into. A heavy crunch follows, and the obnoxious sound of deliberate chewing fills the airways “You’re stalling.” He says, mouth half full with what she suspects are sower cream and dill chips – the sacrilege.

“I’m fucking up” she whispers back, voice small and unsure and the voice on the other line just hums in agreement.

“Mhm. To be expected.”


“Gee, thanks.”

“My pleasure. Did I or didn’t I warn you to be careful with this and how far you take it?”

“But that’s not –“

“Did I or didn’t I ?” he asks again, voice sterns and early calm, it makes her sit straighter involuntarily, old habits die hard.

“You did.”

“And what did you do? You let that guy get under your skin to the point that you’re no longer seeing your bright shinny career being build up by this, but his fucking trust in you ruined.” He says and she grunts in agreement, falling heavily on the bed behind her while an arm swings to shield her eyed from the neon light.


“Uh this is so fucking pathetic.” He hums in return

“Yes you are. No tell me what happened.”

It takes her two hours to navigate through the blur that was this night; fully sober and utterly hating every single minute of recalling the events. But she does. She tells him everything, from the tiniest detail to the direction her thoughts started drifting too. And for the first time in over three years he listens, lets her finish patiently and calmly that by the time she finishes she doesn’t feel ashamed or angry anymore … but just ,,, empty.

“Better?” he asks after a while, and she hums an agreement in return. “You want my expert advice?”

“Not really.” She says, and stiffens a sigh “But I need it.”

“Mhm. You started out with an infatuation over a broken toy and ended up with a pet project.”

“Dude.”

“Let me finish.” He warns, “You think that his past humanizes his behavior now, justifies it. The drinking the partying the recluse behavior and the obvious monumental Mount Rushmore level of trust issues him and his culte du personalite seem to be sporting. But before you fully go Stockholm syndrome and fall in love with this looser, wouldn’t it be wiser to let him know you too?”

She sighs and nods silently before she remembers that the only was to progress his conversation is by actual communication “I guess.”

“Just remember that ultimately it’s sort of pointless.”
“What is ?”

“This. This whole dating other people thing you think you should be doing.” He says matter of facty and she rubs her eyes in return .

“John …”

“Look I’m not saying that this is because of our families. But after the deal we made, we both agreed that if we wouldn’t find anything better we’re come back to each other – that was your idea, not mine. And, might I add, the reason you’re technically disowned.

“I don’t –“

“I know, I know. I know you don’t NEED them. But I do.” He says and she lets the words sink in a little, a small sigh breathes out of her be before she asks through closed eyes:

“Need who? Them or me?”

“Yes.”

The following day starts with very loud and very impatient knocks on the door. Alex, with head throbbing bad enough in the quietness of her room, groans very un-lady like when the ache increases abruptly from the sound as if the banging takes place directly in her head. A hand pulls the covers over her head, adding another pillow when the sound keeps on coming. She mumbles in vain a ‘go ‘way’ and after what feels like forever, and her head pumps with unbearable pain she throws the covers off her and turns to get out of bed, regretting the move immediately when an electrifying pain shoots up her spine and settles at the begging of her neck.

“Owww fuck!” she shouts as a hand comes up and wraps around her neck. “Just a second!” she shouts again, angrier this time. “You horrible devils out there.” The mumble comes more as a whine as feet brushes on the floor on hopes of finding her slippers. The banging continues, each sharp noise nesting in the top of her head, sending shocks of pain throughout her body and she takes a moment to stare at the door, hoping it would burst in flames along with whoever is behind it. She decides to leave the shoes in order to stop the bloody noise, but as soon as her feet make contact with the cold, hard floor she immediately regrets her decision.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” she yells, closing the distance between her bed and door with two huge steps and for a moment she is grateful the room is small. But just for a moment because as soon as she yanks the door opened, three equally excited faces stares back at her.

“Good afternoon!” they all shout in unison while Alex cringes at the high voice. Lydia looks fresh as a lettuce, all arranged and sparkling; Allison’s eyes are way too bright and shiny, equally arranged as Lydia; and Cora, bless her soul, throws a pitiful look towards Alex.

“It was!” Alex snaps through chattering teeth and hands wrapped tightly around her frame. “Long before you assholes started banging at my door.” She sends them a glare, making sure they all receive it, except for Lydia who just seems untouched by it. Of course. “What the hell are you doing at this hour?” she frowns, taking in the unusual darkness outside.

“This hour is long past noon sweetheart.” Lydia replies in a flat voice, her eyebrow rising just slightly up. “It’s three in the afternoon.”

“Oh.” And that was all Alex said before she was pushed inside by the girls. Her feet stumbled a little, the dizziness back so sudden; Alex thought she might throw up right there. Her head hurt, her stomach growled, she was cold and not to mention the fact that those three had started searching her wardrobe and drawers.

“Um, excuse me?” she says, indignant. “What are you doing?”

It was Lydia who turned, face horrified while the other two still searched. “Did you forget about the fact that tomorrow night we have Allison’s engagement party?”

Alex narrows her eyes, brows drawn close and her gaze flicker to Allison, who sports an amused look rather than a hurt one.

“Oh my god!” Lydia shouts, a hand flat against her chest while the other gripped tightly at her hip. “Just how much alcohol you had last night young lady?” she accuses in that motherly voice, making the other two turn to watch Alex’s bewildered face. They chuckle behind their hands and it’s horrifying how similar they look while doing that.

“Lydia spare me ‘the talk’ and explain yourself why the hell are you here and why” she stretches her hands towards the girls “are they searching my room?”

Lydia levels her with a look that says ‘seriously’ before rolling her green eyes heavily. “I was hoping I could find a proper outfit for you but apparently it’s hopeless.” She sighs, a corner of her lips pulling up. “Never mind, I’ll see what I can do.” She turns and leaves, leaving Alex squinting her eyes desperately at Allison and Cora who just shrugs, leans to give her a kiss before storming out the door with a ‘see you later’.

Alex just stands there, shivering while she tries, for the sake of it, to understand what just happened.
She eventually decides it doesn’t worth the time before she tip-toes her way back in bed and hopes she would sleep the rest of the day in silence.


However she is awoken back to life to a low knock on her door. Much calmer this time, she stirs and glances at the clock that shows few minutes passed nine. She hopes the knock stops and whoever is behind the door kindly goes away but by the fourth knock she sighs, rubs at her eyes and throws the covers back and gets the door. The man that stands there apologizes and hands her a tray of food saying Lydia has sent him with the announcement that there would be a storm tonight and she should stay indoors. She nods, bites a thank you and closes the door.

She settles the tray on the night stand, takes few bites from the toast, gulps down the glass of warm milk before humming pleasantly as the ache in her stomach dies out. Her eyes glances at the cubbyhole, dark clouds sparkling angrily before she curls under the covers, welcoming the warmth.

She drifts to sleep to the swaying of the cruise and the lullaby the rain drops sings as they make contact with the steel walls.

“I’m sorry.” The thing that just blocked out the sun says at her, and Anne has to squint through her sunglasses to get a good look at it. When he finally comes into focus though, against the blinding and almost otherworldly outline that the giant ball of fire in the sky seems to bestow upon him, what Anne finds has the corners of her mouth involuntarily twitch.  He’s towering over her lounge chair; arms crossed and frown low and in full bloom. He huffs impatiently at her almost like her expects a reaction other than deafly silence, so instead Anne just raises a single questioning brow and just like that and eye roll gets added into Derek Hales repertoire of impatience mannerisms.

“About last night.” He adds and waits a beat to gouge for a reaction,  when it fails to come he huffs again and follows “I … was told I acted unprofessional and unbecoming.” Anne smirks.

“This from the man who got into a fist fight with his bandmate on my second night here?”  

“Yes.” He says simple, shifting his weight from one foot to another in what Anne thinks is a learned coping mechanism at this point. She nods silently at him once, pushes her sunglasses up, and sits back down on her loungechair. “Look.” He says again, and the chair next to her creaks against his weight when he finally abandons all hope of maintaining an imposing stance with no audience and sits down on it “I’m not … usually.” He trails, exasperation dripping from his tone and she hears his shift nervously in his seat. “I’m in control.” He finally settles on saying “At least …”

“You thought you were?” she adds, and finally looks back at him to find him nodding silently .

“Yeah.”

“Because you have to be, right?” Anne says, a bit surprised herself with how easy she falls into a comfortable sense of familiarity with him. Birds of a feather, she thinks darkly, and smiles when he nods again.

“No other choice.”he says.  Indeed, she thinks.

“You weren’t as inappropriate as I was.” She finally says, and Derels eyes widen a little at her. She sighs, sits straighter in her chair and finally takes off her perhaps too comfortable sunglasses. “I was told, “ she continues, searching for the right words to put this “I was more pushy than you were. In hindsight if I wouldn’t have given you an in, you probably wouldn’t have seen the opening.” She says, and Derek simply stares flatly at her. Silent and unmoving.

“Was that a pun?” he deadpans and she cringes.

“Not …. And intentional one?” she grimaces back at him, frowning petulantly when the corners of his lips try to thin out in a small pleased smile. “Shut up. It was funny.”

“You are worse than Stilinski.” He laughs, and she gaps at him.

“You take that back, Hale. You take that back or the next words out of my mouth will be ‘Man overboard’!”

“It seems the plan turns out to be what you hoped for.” Allison states in a low voice as she chews on the straw of the cocktail she ordered. The big framed sunglasses covers her eyes and Lydia has to turn her head in order to read Allison’s face remaining visible face; because that is definitely not typical Allison and it makes her wonder if the woman next to her is her friend.

Allison however keeps her head up as if she just not stated something unusual, eyes glued on the scene on the other side of the swimming pool.

“What are you talking about?” Lydia dares asking as her head turns away from Allison. There is a frown on her face she doesn’t seem to sport and Allison tries hard not to burst giggling because she can actually feel it forming.

“Oh” Allison straightens in her lounge chair facing Lydia who just gives a side glance but remains still, waiting for more. “Just about the fact that I know everything that goes through that innocent mind of yours.” Allison smirks when she catches Lydia’s shoulders tense before they go completely relaxed. “You forget that from the three of us, I have been the closest in eighteen years.” She smiles now, warm and kind, and finally Lydia turns to face her, two fingers gripping the glasses and pulling them down her nose. “As they were the closest to each other.” Allison tips her chin in Alex and Anne’s direction. “We are friends Lydia, best friends; the whole four of us, but…” her hand settles over Lydia’s arm and squeezes. “You have been the closest to my heart.”

She nods squeezes one more time before she grabs the empty glass and rises to her feet. “You want one more?” she asks Lydia who nods and gives one of her rare smiles.

“Sure.”


Alex loves water; she loves the way it makes her feel light, she loves the way the pressure holds her chest from inflating with air, loves the way it cools her heated body and the way it forces her break through; Alex just loves the power water has in general.
If it was possible to give this life in return for a marine one, she would probably do it without a second thought.

And that’s why, when she first step foot on the deck that morning and the sun seemed to burn her skin alive, she decided to dedicate the whole day to water.

She had been in the swimming pool for the last one hour, floating; arms spread wide around her, ears covered by water where she could hear her even breathing two times louder; and it was so relaxing she almost fell asleep.

As relaxing as it was though, her brain had been a constant disturbance. It was unsettling for Alex to feel distress, hopeless and having that awful feeling of falling – all knotty in the stomach and throat. It was funny however, because she didn’t know that feeling until now and it made her laugh whenever she thought about it. That would be a very weird view from her part and it might just make people question her sanity. Not as if she wasn’t just doing that now.

Alex takes a deep breath and her body raises more and when she exhales it she turns and heads for the pool edge, deciding to do a few basins to at least forget about that feeling in her stomach.



“What’s with her?” Scott asks following Allison back on the lounge chairs, holding an equally looking cocktail as the one Allison holds.

The latter just shrugs and gives dimples smile which makes his legs wobble a little and the drink spill few drops.

“God you are so in love it almost makes me sick.” Lydia calls from the chairs and Allison knows better that behind those glasses there is a very exaggerate eye roll. She sticks her tongue out and motions for Scott to sit next to her before she takes a seat in between him and Lydia.

“It’s because of your frozen heart my sweet Lydia…it’s because of your frozen heart.” Stiles comes few seconds after just in time to hear Lydia’s complaining phrase.

“Ha ha ha Stiles, you humor me with your presence as always.” Lydia fakes a sarcastic smile while a hand settles over her cheek before her face turns dead serious.

“The pleasure is mine milady.” Stiles gives a deep bow and when he comes back up the grin he sports is brilliant.


For a moment he shivers, and the surprise written over his face it’s a sign he hadn’t expected it to happen when outside were over fourth degrees of burning sun and choking heat. He shrugs and takes a seat next to Scott, eyes glued on the swimming pool where for the past ten minutes Alex had been swimming.

“Everyone is ready for tonight?” Lydia asks, and from the voice they can tell she is smiling without even looking at it.

“Oh yes!”

“Yup!”

“Hell yeah.” And Stiles of course cannot hold the grin and take his eyes off the small gracious silhouette from the pool.