#acebarry

Thedoor swings open and she’s greeted with the pleasant picture of seeing JordanParrish still clad in his deputy uniform, but with shirt untucked and the firsttwo buttons unbuttoned. And as much as she loves him in his uniform, she reallywants to see how he looks like with it on the floor.

He’stired, and she can’t blame him because after all he had a long shift today, butwhen he sees her, his face lights up with a smile but also a curious andconcerned look. “Lydia? What’re you doing here so late? And on ChristmasEve?” It’s only then that his cop persona spills out, his brows furrowing,“Wait, is everything okay? Are you okay?”

Lydiasmiles, fingers twirling around the tie that’s keeping her trench coat on.“Everything’s a-okay, deputy.” She steps a little closer to him and he doesn’tmove, his gaze completely focused on her still. “I just thought I’d come andgive you your Christmas present early,” she purrs, her voice slipping to flirtyand sensual and she hopes he catches it.

But, ofcourse he doesn’t. “Christmas present? Aw, you know you didn’t have to get meanything, Lydia,” he says, oh-so modestly, and Lydia wonders why she hasn’tpinned him to the door and kissed him senseless yet. His gaze then falls fromher face to what she’s wearing, an itty bitty trench coat that barely hits herknees and his mouth falls open. “Aren’t you freezing? It’s like fifty degrees outside.”He’s quickly opening the door wider then and letting her in, “C’mon in, I’llget you a hot cup of coffee and a sweater, and oh yeah, my mom—”

Shedoesn’t hear the last of it and neither does she notice the extra pair of heelsnext to his shoes right near the door, because she’s too busy cornering him toit as soon as he closes it.

“Hmm,”she hums, stepping closer to him and enjoying the way his eyes go wide a littleas he looks down at her, “Why do I need coffee or a sweater when I have a hottoasty hellhound right here?” She knows for a fact that being more in tunewith his supernatural abilities now has definitely made his body temperature alot higher than the normal person.

Herwords make him blush and laugh a little nervously. “Well, I am a little warmerthan usual,” he whispers sheepishly.

Lydiacan’t help and roll her eyes, but it does make her smile a little wider as shetakes a step back, seeing him breath in relief. But not for long, that is.“Then how about you warm up your Christmas present then?” It sounds incredibly cheesyleaving her mouth when she says it, and she’s starting to think thatJordan’s rubbing off on her.

Butbefore she gives him a chance to ask what she means, her fingers are expertlyuntying her trench coat, letting it fall and pool at her feet. And theexpression that crosses his face when he sees what she’s wearing underneathmakes her not only smile triumphantly, but also wish she had a camera to clicka photo.

She’swearing sexy santa underwear with a red sheer babydoll that shows just theperfect amount of her cleavage and a little more. If it was any other guy, theywould have probably jumped her by now, but it’s Jordan and he’s absolutelyspeechless, and not to mention gawking at her. Just like she thought. He’salso checking her out quite blatantly this time, something she’s failedto get him to do with no matter how many low cut t-shirts and short mini skirtsshe’s worn around him. And with that, she can’t help but purr again, “Oh, I’vebeen naughty, deputy.” At first when she was shopping for the costume a weekago, she was actually looking for a sexy cop outfit, but with the holidays justaround the corner, she thought why not.

Shewalks back over to him and slides her hands down his chest, making him fumbleover his words, “I-uh-I, Lydia, I don’t think-I—”

“Shhh,”she murmurs, and even in six inch heels she has to stretch up a little to lether mouth trail against his jaw. “If you’re going to open your mouth, I canthink of a million other things you could be doing with it that doesn’t involvetalking.” She smiles and Jordan turns his head gently, making their lips nearlya centimeter apart, and god, it’s the first time she can say that she’shonestly imagined this moment before.

“Jordy?Who’s this?” And just like that, the moment is ruined.

Lydiapulls away from Jordan and turns around, coming face to face with the lastperson she wants to see like this. Jordan’s mother. And she knows for afact that it’s his mother because they have the same eyes, nose, and haircolor. “Oh my god,” she breathes, grabbing her trench coat and wrapping itaround herself while feeling her face burn up, and she’s honestly never felt soembarrassed before in her life. When she imagined meeting Jordan’s mother, never in her life did she expect it would be like this.

Jordanfinally composes himself, but he’s just as red as her if not more as he triesto explain, “Mom! This is, um, this is Lydia, she’s my-um, my—”

“Your girlfriend?”His mother finishes with a raised brow, and Lydia sees Jordan’s eyes go so widethat if they could, they’d probably fall out of his sockets. She also knowsthat he’s going to be quick to debunk the claim, but she has a better idea.

“Yes,yes I am,” she says quickly, face still red hot as she moves closer to Jordan and holds on to his armto display some type of couple-like intimacy. She wants to grumble at him that he should have mentioned that his mother was here, but she figures that’s probably what he was sputtering about moments before when she shushed him.

“I’m really sorry Mrs. Parrish,I just wanted to come over and give Jordan a nice little surprise, you know,since it’s so hard to spend time with him since he’s always working,” She says, emphasizing on the last part with a roll of her eyes to show just how much itannoys her, because girlfriend or not, it does genuinely annoy her. “If I knewyou were visiting, I would have come over in much more suitable attire.I’m sorry once again for making things awkward.” She bats her eyelashes alittle and puts up her best innocent expression, because she does know from allthe times that Jordan’s talked about his mother, that she’s a nice sweet ladywho’s been on his back for a while about trying to get him to “settle down”with some nice girl.

Andwell, in Lydia’s dictionary, she definitely thinks she’s a nice girl.

“Oh my,aren’t you the cutest thing? And don’t you dare apologize.” His mom coos with ahuge smile, and Lydia takes it as a win-win. “I’ve been badgering Jordy aboutgetting a girlfriend for years, but he never listens to me!”

Lydiacan’t help but giggle at the nickname. “Aw, Jordy, you need to listen toyour mom more,” she teases and the expression on Jordan’s face is a mixture ofrelief and surprise that this is even working.

“Sweetheart,why don’t you stay for a while? You must be shivering to the bone!” His motherinsists, and who is she to say no?

Shesmiles, “I’d be happy to, Mrs. Parrish.”

Jordan’smother grins and waves her hand, “Please, call me Linda.” And with thatsaid, Lydia finds herself being dragged happily away by Linda towards Jordan’skitchen, who promises a plate of her best chocolate chip cookies with hot cocoaas well as sharing some of Jordan’s baby pictures as well as photos from his teenageyears.

Glancingback over her shoulder at Jordan, Lydia sees that he’s still standing there inshock and she can’t help but wink and blow a kiss at him. Because homemadecookies with hot chocolate and getting to see Jordan’s baby pictures is definitelya very merry Christmas to her. Not to mention, thanks to Mrs. Parrish, shemight just be Jordan’s girlfriend now.

The voice is too familiar to not recognize when she raises her head to meet his gaze. Jordan. He’s standing completely naked in front of her, towering a good whole foot over her but he looks down at her like she has him tied around her finger but also like they’re standing on the same leveled ground at the same time. Like equals.

She already knows she’s hallucinating, that he’s not really here with her, but it feels so real that she wants to believe that he is really here. And yet despite the hallucination, his bright green eyes don’t stray from her face, even if she’s totally fucking naked in front of him. Even in her imagination he’s a complete gentleman.

“We...have to stop meeting like this,” he says, half jokingly, half serious, maybe.

She smiles and it feels weird on her face. She’s been here for a while—she’s tried to keep track of time but it’s too much of a strain—and she hasn’t smiled once until now. “Like this? From what I know, this is the first time for me that we’re meeting like this.” Her voice sounds weird to her ears too. It’s hoarse and rough, like she hasn’t spoken in months. That makes her shiver as she tries not to think about it. It hasn’t been months, it can’t be. The pack wouldn’t have left her in here for months.

In fact, Jordan wouldn’t even have left her in here for a week.

Her shoulders fall and she starts to falter at the thought, but then she feels a soft gentle hand against her cheek and she’s looking up again back at Jordan. It’s a strange sensation for her, to be able to see him, feel him, yet know he’s not really there. She’s not exactly sure how this works, this tether—if she can even call it that. It sure feels like one though. A strong one.

It’s not just someone who can hold you under. It needs to be someone who can pull you back. Someone that has a strong connection to you, a kind of emotional tether. Deaton’s words resonate through her, the memory of when she held Stiles under coming to her.

She might have been his tether, but that doesn’t mean he’s hers.

“I’m scared.” It leaves her lips quietly and it’s something that she’s never wanted to admit to anyone, not even herself. She always saw fear as a weakness, as something that could make her vulnerable to others, but saying it out loud like this now she actually feels a lot lighter.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “I’m on my way. I’m gonna come and find you.” His words are genuine, full of reassurance and a tiny bit of what she can only think is determination from the way his eyes start to glow orange-red.

She finds herself nodding slowly, leaning into his touch feeling safe and never wanting him to pull away. “I know,” she replies, tone filled with trust for him. “I know.”

He steps closer to her and she does too, closing the distance between them as she feels Jordan’s lips press against hers in the most tender way possible. Lydia’s anything but cliche, but she swears as she cups his face and kisses him back that there’s a pinprick of lightening or a flare of a flame that ignites in her. A feeling that she thought was only for movies and books, not real life.

She never wants the kiss to end, never wants Jordan to stop stroking her cheek with the pad of his thumb, never wants to stop feeling this safe, this secure in someone’s arms.

But then he’s pulling away, murmuring something against her lips while her eyes flutter close. Qu’est-ce que je ferais sans toi?

What would I do without you?

When she opens her eyes, he’s gone. And she’s left with the lingering feeling of his lips against hers and the thought of how she knows French. But from the last time she remembers, she’s pretty sure Jordan doesn’t.

 [1767.]

He’s holding her in his arms and she’s dying.

Her throat is all torn up, deep teeth marks etched into her flesh as she struggles to catch her breath the last time and there’s nothing he can do about it. There’s tears streaming down his face and he twines his fingers with her, using his powers to take her pain away even if it’s only momentarily. Her chest rises and she breathes easily for a second before she’s suffering again and he does it again and again, his veins turning black as the pain surges through him. His body is telling him to stop, but his heart is telling him to keep going.

“Stop, Mr. Parrish.”

Jordan looks up at the Argent man standing in front of him covered in blood. The same Argent that he helped kill the horrendous supernatural beast that was terrorizing the city, killing innocent townsfolk. And although they had managed to stop it, Jordan could do nothing to stop what the beast did to the love of his life.

“No, no, there has to be a way!” He yells helplessly, “We, we have to talk to sir Deaton! or Madam Noshiko! There..has to be a way!”

“J-Jordan?” Lydia’s voice is weak when she addresses him, barely audible. “I-It’s o-okay.”

He shakes his head, bending down to press a kiss against her forehead. He whispers sweet nothings to her, tells her that everything’s going to be okay, but it seems that no matter what he says, fate already has other plans for the both of them.

“Qu’est-ce que je ferais sans toi?,” he murmurs brokenly, brushing her curls gently from her face, his fingers staining with her blood.

She smiles at him weakly and with the last amount of strength she has, she pulls him down so that their faces are close. And Jordan lets her press her lips against his one last time.

 He wakes up with a startle.

He’s covered with cold sweat and breathing heavily, shivers wracking through his body and Jordan doesn’t know why or how. How did he fall asleep? He hasn’t been able to fall asleep ever since what happened to Lydia.

He rubs his face and tries to catch his breath, ready to get out of bed to splash himself with cold water when suddenly, the words echo through his mind: Que mes baisers soient les mots d’amour que je ne te dis pas.

May my kisses be the words of love I don’t tell you.

His brow furrows, confusion settling in him as he tries to figure out where that came from or more importantly, where he heard it from. Because from what he knows, he doesn’t know any French. He doesn’t think more on it though as his mind travels back to his dream—was it a dream? It felt so real, like it had happened before.

He glances at the clock. It’s three in the morning. Exactly six days that Lydia’s been stuck in that awful place and there’s nothing he’s been able to do about it. No amount of paperwork, legalities, or trying to persuade Lydia’s mother who helped put her there in the first place has done anything so far. Even the pack, who are strained and broken up at the moment haven’t been able to do much.

But he can’t just give up. No. He’ll never give up on her.

They—he needs to get her out of there no matter what.

And before he knows it, he’s getting out of bed, suddenly filled with a new sense of determination and within minutes of dressing, he’s out the door of his apartment. He calls the Sheriff, calls Scott, tells them that something needs to be done now.

I’m on my way. I’m coming to get you, Lyds.

Because even if they don’t have a plan, Jordan isn’t going to think twice before storming into Eichen like a human torch.

He’s ready to burn down the whole place if he has to if it means getting Lydia back.