minimalist poly aesthetics, lydia x allison x malia
Knuckles rapped on her desk and Allison was almost embarrassed at how quickly her head shot up, meeting the eyes of Captain Hale. “Sir?”Â
Hale, a terse, broad-shouldered, dark haired man stared down at her for an uncomfortable moment before he began speaking. “There’s been a sighting of your duo.”Â
He always did this, called them “her duo” and it always made her nervous. There was no way Captain Hale had figured it out. They’d always, always covered their tracks. Unless he was having her followed, Hale had no reason to suspect anything.
Allison’s heart sank. “I’ll go take a look at it as soon as I can.”Â
“No, you won’t.”
Further into her chest. “Sir?”Â
“I’m taking you off the case. I sent Reyes and Lahey out to take a look and see what they could find. It’s been two months, there’s been dozens of sightings of them, and you’ve gotten no where with catching them. They’re murderers, Argent. I know there’s a long line of those in your --”
“Are we really bringing personal business to work, Derek?” Allison snapped, lips pressed together. “I’m not compromised. I have been working that case nonstop, but the Banshee is careful, and the Coyote doesn’t usually leave enough of her kills behind to work through.”
“Either way.” Captain Hale -- Derek shrugged and turned away, “You’ll take the next case, and I’m pairing you with Stilinski so that I know it’ll get solved this time.”
Allison waited until he was out of earshot to groan. Locking her computer and sliding a few files into her messenger bag, she glared at the closed door to the Captain’s office and slipped out of the building.
She dropped into the drivers seat of her car and rested her forehead against the steering wheel. A buzzing came from the center console of her car, and she opened it, a burner phone rattling around the mostly-empty cavity. She rolled her eyes and answered it.Â
“Who’s the blond?” Malia asked, and Allison could hear the way words wrapped around her fangs, “And why shouldn’t I kill her?”Â
“She’s a good cop.” Allison said quickly, “Just get out of there. Hale took me off the case.”
“Fuck.” Malia said, and Allison could hear her repeating it to Lydia. “We’re so close, Ally. There’s only two more on the list.”
Allison had never seen their list, never wanted to. Malia and Lydia had a long line of people they wanted to kill, people who had hurt them or the ones they loved. People who were, objectively, terrible. Plausible deniability was all she’d ever asked for once the beautiful and dangerous duo had seduced her. She’d protect them as long as she could if they just kept her out of it.
Steeling herself, Allison glanced around her, “We end this and then we disappear.” She said softly. “Who's left on the list?”Â
There was a soft, barely audible conversation on the other end of the line and it was Lydia’s voice Allison heard next. “Are you sure?”Â
Was she? Who knows. “I want the two of you safe. I’ll help you and then we can  get the hell out of dodge and let them clean it up. Who’s left on the list?”Â
“Gabriel Valack and....”Â
Allison did not like the pause there. “And who, Lydia?”
“And Peter Hale.”Â
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Imagine an allydia Rizzoli and Isles au where Allison is Jane - the badass cop taking down crime - and Lydia is Maura - the incredibly smart Chief Medical Examiner with an impeccable taste for fashion.
(The parallels are never ending.)
The pack make up the rest of their police force: Derek, Scott and Stiles following Allison around on cases and often falling asleep at their desks (or in Stiles’ case: the floor)
Imagine the team sitting with Lydia in the lab while they all spit ball ideas and she teaches them a whole lot of interesting facts while also offering fashion advice for undercover ops.
You can build a whole police au off of this, but the parallels to Rizzoli and Isles are just too good to pass up.
