#tinderbox210

There's a lot of potential in Jet Kordo and the Miyuki Trade League imo. If I do end up writing any sort of plot-focused fic, it'll almost definitely involve them. I think Kay would be a good fit for them - they're clearly not strictly above-board, but they seem to operate independent of the syndicates and have their own practices & codes of ethics, which I think would suit her. And I think she would be interested in catching up with Kordo, if for no other reason than to meet the man behind all the messages. (Also, more importantly, they're an invention of this game, which means I don't have to worry about contradicting 5 million years of convoluted and already-contradictory lore.)

I think they would suit ND as well, actually. He's left a lot of his Separatist programming behind, but not all of it, and he's no fan of the Jedi or the Republic. I can see him slotting the trade league in as a surrogate/successor for the trade federation (which, if it weren't for Dooku meddling in it, sounds like it wouldn't really have been that bad... (<- hasn't watched the clone wars and doesn't plan to)) 

Related, I'm really curious on where we all stand re: what ND actually likes and wants. The game leaves a lot of it up for interpretation; his whole arc is about regaining agency and coming to terms with the fact that he's not just "a tool to be used," (😫😭) but that's... sort of where it ends? He knows what he isn't, now, but I'm not sure he has any more idea of what he is or what "freedom" means than Kay does. He says he enjoys having a purpose, but... what would that be? Lots of potential. Much to ponder.

I do think he genuinely enjoys traveling the galaxy. All of the comms dialogues where he sounds the most interested are about locations, land features, the people therein (for all that he professes to prefer solitude - he doesn't like interacting with people, but he seems interested in observing them). It's another reason I think he'd actually be happy continuing as a smuggler or trader. But people are complex, that can't be his only source of fulfillment. For some reason I got it into my head that he'd be a surprisingly good artist, but I'm curious what others envision for him (◡_◡)

Kay says that having the Trailblazer isn't enough to be really free, but as mentioned it's a recurring theme that she has no idea what being free actually entails (and Qira certainly isn't helping. go pull that cryptic shit on someone else). I think once the death mark is off her shoulders, she'd start to realize that maybe she can just live as she has been, and maybe Nix and ND and the Trailblazer and all the new friends she's made are enough, at least for the foreseeable future.

Speaking of: in-game the death mark is sort of left as a case of No Ontological Inertia, but there's a drabble/plot bunny somewhere in there where it's explicitly Vail who calls it off. Just imagine how that would go. Imagine how smug ND would be. It would be so funny. please

After the wild cards dlc, one of her more Kay-like goals is "get rich enough that I can enter the competition legitimately". ND is actually in the audience this time. Along with Nix, to prove a point, because I'm still salty a) that ND was surprised by my being good at sabacc, and b) I won that goddamn game without framing anyone. I freaking HAD THEM when that bomb went off, I am so mad-

It's a bit of a stretch, but I also really want Kay to be the one who smuggles R2 and 3PO up to Jabba's back door in the beginning of ROTJ. (Lando knows her! Presumably he knows she broke in & out of the palace once already! It could be plausible!) This is mainly because I want to inflict R2 (chaos incarnate even among astromechs) on ND (vocally hates astromechs). Also Kay would be super weirded out by Luke even without knowing the Jedi thing and it would be fun to make them interact.

They still would do their best to avoid the rebels. When the Empire falls 6ish months later, how do they react? How much would life even change for them as smugglers (who would presumably find themselves at odds with any sort of organized government, even an ideal/democratic one)? Does the sudden power vacuum mess them up, or does it make life even more profitable as people struggle to function without structure in a transitional period?

“Well Kira asked me and I’m not leaving either,” she sniffs,taking a long sip of coffee. Her stomach instantly starts to churn and shegroans, leaning over and resting her head against the cool marble counter.“I’m never drinking fireball again.” She’s surprised when gentlefingers curl around her wrist and she forces one eye open. It’s still amazingto her, the way werewolves work. The veins on the underside of Derek’s armbegin to turn black as the pain and discomfort is leached from her body. Thewhole pain taking thing was something she had yet to figure out yet. Gettingwerewolves drunk however… “Did you even drink last night?” Lydiaasks, turning her face so she can see him. Derek shakes his head and smirks ather, fingers starting to rub soothing circles on the underside of her wrist.

“Someone had to be responsible for all you idiots,” heexplains, sounding suspiciously fond. “Who do you think drove you and yourdrunk ass roommates home last night?”

She smiles faintly in response, twisting her hand until she canintertwine their fingers. It’s getting close to ten years of the pack knowingeach other, and Lydia has never loved any people as much as she loves thisgroup of dumb asses.

“Thanks Der,” she mumbles, squeezing his fingers. “Pleasedon’t make me leave, I need a break from Stiles.” Derek doesn’t pull hishand away, just makes a sound that might have even been a laugh. Lydia likes Derek.Not like that, although she certainlywouldn’t say no, but he’s just easy for her to be around. He gets her, they geteach other. And he also does things like scoop her up in his arms and tuck herinto Scott and Kira’s bed because she’s hung over and short on sleep. Yeah. She likes Derek.

Things go pretty smoothly once Lydia wakes up hangover free a few hourslater. They take the dogs out for a jog around the block (Lydia absolutely doesnot state at the way Derek’s butt jiggles in his basketball shorts), then eat aquick lunch together. Lydia lays out in the backyard in her swimsuit, reading ajournal for work on her tablet. She’s surprised when Derek comes out and laysnext to her on the blanket, the dogs sniffing around in the yard. It’scomfortable to be honest, just beingwith Derek, and if she concentrates she doesn’t even notice that he’s notwearing a shirt.

After a couple of hours she goes in and takes a shower, returning downstairsin pajama shorts and wet hair half an hour later. Derek’s already busy at thestove, cooking something that smells like heaven. She just stares at him for aminute, the inky swirl of his tattoo, the little dimples at the base of hisspine, the flex of his shoulders as he stirs. It’s not that she’s never seen Derekshirtless before, because she has. The dude is like allergic to clothing orsomething, and it only got worse after he achieved full shift. But there’ssomething private and warm about what she’s seeing now, and when he turns andshoots her a half grin over his shoulder, her knees go a little bit weak.

She composes herself quickly though and joins him in the kitchen, mixingup a salad to go along with the chicken marsala Derek whipped up out ofnowhere. They eat side by side at the kitchen counter, arms brushing every nowand again as they chat about the pack and work and the dogs. Lydia washes thedishes when they finish, watching Derek play with the dogs in the backyardthrough the window over the sink. When he comes back inside they sit onopposite ends of the couch with the dogs between them, and watch four episodesof Daredevil in a row. Derek presses a kiss to her hair when he goes to bed,and it makes Lydia’s heart ache in the best way.

Their shared routine continues in about the same way for the next fewdays, only changing due to Lydia’s work schedule and Derek getting calls fromthe sheriff to consult on cases. The whole thing is terribly domestic, andterrifyingly enough, Lydia finds herself enjoying it. Maybe a little too much.

When she gets home from work on Friday night, Derek’s already in thekitchen, chopping away at some vegetables.

“Hey ba- um Lyds,” he grins at her over his shoulder (his verynaked shoulder, of course). “How do you feel about sausage andpeppers?”

“Mmmm sounds good,” she hums, letting her fingers trace acrosshis back as she passes behind him. “Need me to do anything?” She asksas she stops in front of the sink, squirting dish soap into her hands andscrubbing them under the warm water.

“Yeah, you wanna finish cutting up these peppers for me? I’ll getstarted on cooking the sausage.”

Lydia hums in agreement, staring out at Bella and Cap tussling in thegrass. Derek’s arm snakes around her, fingers curling around the handle of thefrying pan sitting in the drying rack next to the sink. She leans back into theheat of his body with a soft sigh, tilting her head back on instinct. It justfeels natural when Derek’s other arm wraps around her waist, his lips brushingagainst hers gently.

Lydia chases after his lips, twisting in his arms until her chest ispressed against his, her fingers pushing through his hair. Derek moans quietlyagainst her mouth, his teeth nipping at her bottom lip. Lydia’s whole bodysways closer, but her eyes flash open and she freezes.

Derek’s opalescent eyes are wide and staring back at her.

Fuck.

“Oh my god,” Lydia gasps, her hands patting awkwardly atDerek’s bare chest. “Oh my god.” Derek steps back from her, and shecan see the hurt he’s trying to hide behind his stoic expression.“No,” she growls, jabbing a finger in his direction. “You don’tget to go all man pain on me.” Throwing open the fridge she pulls out abottle of wine and a little bottle of the potion she and Stiles discovered madeit possible for werewolves to get drunk. “Me and you are gonna have aglass of wine and discuss this like adults.” Derek’s eying her warily likehe’s considering just shifting into a full wolf and taking off. He follows herout to the living room anyway, accepting the shot glass of Wolf’s Brew and avery full glass of wine. Lydia sits primly beside him on the couch, caughtbetween wishing she was still kissing him and wishing she was already drunk.

Three hours later, and they’re both sprawled across the living roomfloor. Lydia’s skirt is flung over the back of the recliner, her blouse balledup beneath her head.

“It’s fucking hawt,” Derek whines, shimmying out of his shortsand throwing them halfheartedly towards the couch. Lydia twists her headtowards him, frowning as his face swims.

“No yer hot,” she mumbles, flopping her hand out until itconnects with warm skin. She hums happily, skimming her fingers across his abs,tweaking at one of his nipples when she finds one. Derek lets out a low moan,and it makes excitement thrum low in her belly.

“Lyds, Lyds, Lyd-e-uh,” Derek mumbles, rolling towards her andpropping himself up on his elbow. “Me and you like…” He trails off,reaching out a finger and tracing it down her throat, across her collarbone andalong the curve of her breast. Lydia licks her lips, her body aching for him,needing him. She reaches up and curls her hand about the back of his headpulling him into a sloppy kiss. Their teeth clash and their tongues twist andDerek’s body is pressing against her all hot and hard and strong. He pulls back to soon, hovering over her, smirking when shewhines and arches towards her. “We should jus’ get married Lyds,” hesuggests, grinning excitedly down at her. “Me n you are like…” Hesighs and buries his face in her neck, sucking on the sensitive skin. “Yerso fucking perfect Lyds.”

He rolls off her suddenly, and when Lydia finally manages to focus in onhis face, he’s fast asleep on the floor. She reaches out, tracing a finger downthe angle of his nose, over his kiss red lips. Even drunk and snoring he’sgorgeous, and through the haze that seems to be overtaking her, Lydia vaguelyregisters the way her heart squeezes in her chest.

She wakes up the next morning tucked neatly into Scott and Kira’s bed, abottle of blue Gatorade and three ibuprofen sitting on the bedside table.Groaning, she grabs the Gatorade, struggling for a few moments to get the capoff. She swallows down the ibuprofen, wincing as memories from last night startflooding back. Derek’s arms around her waist, the taste of his tongue, the wayhis hair felt between her fingers.  It feelslike a punch to the gut, the realization that she wants him, that she wishes hewas lying there beside her.

She needs to see him.

On shaky legs she makes her way downstairs, frowning at the yappingBella bouncing around her feet. The house is empty. The wine glasses from lastnight are drying next to the sink, the empty bottles are in the recycling bin, andeverything is as neat as it was when Lydia first stepped into the house a weekago. But Derek is gone.

She finds a notes on the end of the counter, written is Derek’s almostflowery scroll.

Went back to myplace for a few days. Need to check on Liam. Call me if you need something. -D

Lydia groans and flops across the counter, crumpling the note in herhand. Of course Derek ran away. After he kissed her and told her they wereperfect together and… And… Proposed to her. Fuck. She drags herself back upthe stairs, collapsing back onto the bed and not caring when Bella and Cap jumpup with her. Maybe this would all make sense after she sleeps it off.

It doesn’t.

It really, really doesn’t.

She mopes for the entire weekend, too busy thinking about Derek and hiseyes and his beard and how much she kind of wants to try things out with him.She’s totally down to marry him right now. Derek would make a good husband.He’s smart and gorgeous and dryly funny. He can cook for her and he’sindependently wealthy and sometimes he looks at her with these soft eyes andshe feels like the prettiest girl in the world.

She misses him.

And she also hasn’t been eating anything other than Doritos and icecream.

It’s pathetic enough that Stiles shows up around midweek, bearing giftsof amazing smelling Chinese food.

“You are such a hot mess dude,” he laughs at her, pulling thelittle red and white boxes out of the brown paper bag and setting them on thecoffee table. Lydia rolls her eyes and slides down the couch to sit crosslegged on the floor.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” She grumbles, spearing a pieceof sweet and sour chicken with a chopstick and plopping it in her mouth. Stilesjust smirks at her, looking all sophisticated actually using chopsticks the rightway as he eats his Beef Lo Mein. Glaring, she picks up the other chopstick andcorrectly positions them in her hand, eating her chicken like a civilizedperson.

“You’re going to tell me you know,” he says after a moment.“Because I know for a fact that Isaac is bringing Derek pizza and havingthis same conversation.”

“What does Derek have to do with anything?” Lydia asks, toofast, she realizes when Stiles grins triumphantly. Whatever. He doesn’t knowanything.

“What happened? You two get drunk and make out?”

“We were sober when we made out the first time thanks,” Lydiasnaps, stuffing her mouth full of rice before she can say anything else. Stilesjust smirks, and it’s absolutely infuriating. “I hate you.” Shegrumbles when she swallows, pointing a chop stick at him. “So fuckingmuch.”

“So tell me about this kiss. Is he a good kisser? He looks like he’d bea good kisser.” Stiles muses, stupid lips twitching as a pops another piece of beefsmugly into his mouth. Lydia is well aware that he’s teasing her like ajackass, and she wonders briefly why she’s even friends with him.

“Of course he’s a good kisser asshole,” she answers, poking absently ather carton of food. “I wouldn’t be in this state if he wasn’t.” Sighing, sheleans back against the couch, huffing when Bella tries to lick her face. “Hefucking said we should get married Stiles!” She doesn’t dare look at him,content to stare up at the ceiling fan turning lazily above her. Stiles isuncharacteristically quiet for a few moments, and she realizes too late thathe’s texting someone. “What are you doing?” She snaps, lifting her head toglare at him.

“Isaac and Derek are on their way over,” Stiles responds calmly, as ifthat is not the single most distressing statement she’s ever heard. “Then meand Scarf Boy are getting out of here so you two can kiss and make up.”

Lydia frowns. It’s confusing, because she wants to see Derek, she canalready feel excitement starting to thrum through her veins. But at the sametime, she doesn’t want him to be forced on her. He’s impossible to talk to whenhe’s being stubborn, and she wouldn’t be surprised if he went all stone facedand glared at her the entire time. She could think of a few things more funthan glaring. Like kissing. And biting. And getting naked. She lifts anotherpiece of chicken to her mouth, chewing slowly while watching Stiles smirk athis phone.

“What are you doing?” She asks suspiciously, eyes narrowing when heactually snorts. “Stiles.”

“Nothing, nothing,” he shakes his head and grins at her. “I’m just gladthat I picked your name out of the hat instead of old Sour Wolf’s. Isaac hateshis life right now.”

“Well that’s what he gets for meddling,” Lydia sniffs, suddenly toonervous to eat anything else. Derek is on his way here. And they are going tohave to actually talk about things. Like they were going to last Friday nightbefore they drank two bottles of wine and ended up in their underwear on theliving room floor.

“We didn’t know what happened, we just knew you two were acting funny.It’s not meddling, it’s concern.” Stiles replies as if he rehearsed the answer.Lydia doesn't’ even have a chance to reply before there’s headlights shiningthrough the windows, followed by the sound of slamming doors. “That’s my cue.”Stiles chirps, jumping up and quickly throwing their half-eaten food back intothe bag. “I’ll leave this stuff for you in the fridge!” He calls over hisshoulder, completely abandoning Lydia alone in the living room.

She hears the front door open, and the muffled sound of voices followedby the unmistakable sound of Stiles’ giggling. It seems like forever before thedoor clicks shut, and soft footsteps make their way towards her. She looks upwhen they stop, letting her eyes travel slowly up long sweatpants clad legs toa slightly stained and rumpled t-shirt then on to a couple days’ worth of beardand eyes with dark circles beneath them. It looks like Derek is in about thesame shape she is.

“Come here,” Lydia demands softly, patting the spot on the floor besideher. Derek’s eyes dart between the floor and her face warily for a few secondsbefore he moves almost mechanically forward, dropping gracefully beside her. Shewaits until he pulls his knees up to his chest to lean against him, her headresting on his shoulder. “I missed you,” she whispers, swallowing down the lumpin her throat.

“You didn’t call,” Derek mumbles with a raspy, hurt filled voice.

“I didn’t think you wanted me to Der.” She lifts her head and pushesherself up on to her knees, shuffling around until she faces him. “Hey look atme.” She curls her fingers under his chin, nudging him until he turns his faceup towards her. Derek looks vulnerable and broken, mouth set in a hard line,eyes full of pain. “Derek.” His name rolls easily off her tongue like she wasborn to say it, and he doesn’t shake her off when she places a hand on eachcheek. “I think I’m falling in love with you, you know.” She admits quietly,lips quirking at the light that flares in Derek’s eyes. “And I think we shouldgive it a try.”

Derek’s face breaks into the most beautiful smile she’s ever seen, shyand hopeful and adoring. He drops his knees and pulls her easily into his lap,wrapping his arms around her and holding her tightly against his chest. Lydiacan feel his heart racing beneath her, and she smiles into his neck at thethought. “Next time you propose to me though, I want a ring.” She teases,pulling back just enough to watch a flush spread across his cheeks. Derekshakes his head before pressing his lips to hers, and it’s even better than sheremembered. Their bodies fit together like they were made for each other, softagainst hard, curves against edges. Derek kisses like he needs it, like hecan’t live without the taste of her lips. Lydia can relate to the feeling.

“Next time I propose,” Derek huffs in between sucking bruising kissesagainst her neck, “You’re going to say yes.”

Lydia grins.