Things never go the way you expect them to- they never go to plan. But no matter how many times plans go awry, we can't help but be hopeful that next time will be different. Then reality strikes and we're still disappointed even though we shouldn't be. Predictable, but still disappointing. We can't help but hope for the best even when experience tells us that it's a nonsensical notion when hope is not so far off from optimistic dreaming. And Stiles' birthday plans are no exception to this redundant routine.
Originally, the pack was supposed to take a road trip to the beach to celebrate Stiles' 18th birthday. Festivities were to be complete with a barbecue, beach volleyball, swimming in the ocean, and whatever else they could come up with on the spot. In all honesty no one cared much about what they ended up doing during this trip, they were just elated to spend time together in a relaxing environment away from Beacon Hills.
They should have known that a serene getaway would be too much to ask for, even just for a day. The day before the event, Stiles' jeep took a crap on life, and this time duct tape could not resuscitate the worn hunk of metal. After a lot of failed attempts of revival, copious rolls of that silver tape, and immense amounts of swearing, it was determined that the powder blue jeep's condition was terminal.
Stiles being Stiles, he refused to accept the blatant truth. The jeep is as much of the pack as anyone else is. Maybe even more so than Liam, at least in Stiles' mind. He denounced the option of proceeding with the plan without the jeep and planned to have a professional take a look at it the next day.
Well now it is the next day, and instead of spending time at the beach with the pack, Stiles is sitting at the repair shop. What he doesn't know is that although the plans have been altered, they have not been canceled altogether. Scott and Lydia made some last minute rearrangements, determined to celebrate this day one way or another. It might not be a day at the beach, but a surprise party will have to suffice.
**
"Really, I can't thank you enough for doing this," Lydia's high-pitched voice rings clear throughout the kitchen. The banshee is put on speakerphone so the girl put in charge of food can multitask talking and cooking. She didn't get a lot of notice. In fact she didn't get any notice at all. What she got was a phone call at 8:30 in the morning begging that she handle the food for Stiles' surprise party, and since she's the only one who is skilled in that department, refusal was out of the question.
"You make it sound like I had a choice in the matter," she laughs in good nature, checking the temperature of the boiling water. A few more degrees and it will reach a scalding temperature, which is exactly what she needs for making sugar crystals.
"No really, you're my favorite half-faerie," Lydia bubbles, her grin almost visible through the sound waves.
"I'm the only half-faerie you know!"
"I don't see why that should make a different," Lydia quips.
"Of course you don't," she chuckles, "You're lucky I didn't charm my way out of this."
"You're more caring than conniving. Besides, just think of the look on Stiles' face when he sees what we've done. All the slaving over a hot stove will be worth it."
It's true, Lydia's right and she knows it. Being woken up out of a dead sleep in the early hours of the morning and the warmer than average temperature in the kitchen were not and are not pleasant, but this isn't about her current inconvenience. This is about Stiles. Their friend who deserves the world, but since they can't give him that, a surprise party will have to do.
"You're doing a good thing, Lydia," she says in reference to the impromptu party they conjured up no more than two hours ago.
"So are you. Call me when you're finished and I'll drop by to pick up what wont fit in your car."
"Sounds good, see you then."
"See you then."
**
The exact passage of time is indefinite since she refuses to look at the clock above the stove. The numbers do nothing but make her feel rushed and panicked with the idea of not being able to finish in time. It's better if she stays in the zone, blocking out everything that is not related to cooking. This is why she failed to hear the sound of the door opening, or the patter of footsteps on the hardwood floor.
The click of the stove dial and the bubbling of the water are the only sounds that resonate in her ever so subtly pointed ears. She takes the pot into her grip, careful not to spill any of the steaming water on her delicate skin.
"Hey! Need any help?" a voice booms from behind her, unaware of the havoc he has just inflicted.
The sudden noise causes her to shriek and jump back in surprise. The scorching water splashes out of its metal confines, as the movement is abrupt and unsuspected. Her left arm is drenched from her wrist up to the crease of her elbow, her skin already turning an angry shade of red.
"Shit," she hisses in pain, her eyes flashing to the color of amethyst and her teeth turning into tiny, sharp razors- an instinct brought on by extreme agony.
The pot falls to the floor as a tinny echo reverberates throughout the room. The remaining water pools on the floor, the cool wooden panels bringing it to a safer temperature.
"Oh my god," Liam rushes over to her, heat flooding his face, "I am so sorry."
"S'okay," she assures through gritted teeth. She turns the cold-water nob, the clear liquid spilling out of the faucet rapidly. Her skin stings as burning flesh is challenged by cold water.
"No it's not. I am a safety hazard who shouldn't be allowed to leave the house," Liam grimaces. Welts are being to form over the length of the injured area.
"Now you're just being dramatic," she chuckles, rotating her arm to cover the entirety of it.
"Is there anything I can do?" the beta frowns, guilt washing over him.
"There's aloe vera and gauze in the pantry around the corner. Could you get it for me please?" she asks, her tone soft.
"Yes, of course, I can do that," he nods sharply, departing to retrieve the supplies.
She smiles to herself, shaking her head. She's known Liam for a few months now; he was the first one to sniff her out. She was able to evade the rest of the pack, flying below their supernatural radar when she arrived in Beacon Hills. Faeries and half-faeries aren't like werewolves, they don't draw a lot of attention to themselves. Their abilities are more understated, their charm passable as being just exceptionally charming. The purple irises and jagged teeth are manageable, as they are not triggered by anger or an increasing heart rate. But somehow Liam figured it out. He paid very close attention to her, and not because she seemed threatening or because he was suspicious of her sudden appearance. He was drawn to her because she her personality is enchanting and her physical appearence ethereal.
In complete honesty, he had no idea what she was in the beginning. He was just a teenage boy enthralled with the pretty new girl. Impulse control has never been his strong suit, so he allowed himself to pine after her. As it turns out, his infatuation is what revealed her secret. He began to notice things that were out of the ordinary, things that anyone else would have never have noticed because they were so subtle.
"Alright, I got everything," Liam reenters the kitchen, "Let me see your arm."
She ruefully abandons the sink, hopping onto the counter and stretching her arm out to be wrapped. Liam squirts the aloe into his palm, rubbing his hands together to coat them in the substance. His hands feel cool against her irritated skin, the lotion providing a nice relief.
"Am I hurting you," Liam's brows furrow together in concern. He's never been very good at flirting. He's not charming and smooth. He's awkward and bumbling and even though he's not an expert at attracting the opposite sex, he's pretty sure that giving them a burn injury is not the best way to entice them.
"No, not at all. It feels nice," she assures. She's not lying, but she's not being completely truthful either. The aloe does feel nice, but the burn still hurts like hell. She doesn't want to tell him though; it's obvious he feels badly enough already.
"I just wanted to stop by to see if I could help out. I know Lydia dumped a lot on you with all the food prep," he sighs, mentally kicking himself for ruining his sweet gesture that went south remarkably fast.
He finishes wrapping her arm in loose gauze to cover the wound but still allow airflow. She hops off the counter, inspecting his patch up.
"You had good intentions and I appreciate it. Accidents happens," she smiles warmly at him, squeezing his shoulder.
**
She winces as she begins to clean up the mess, Liam noticing the way her eyes squeeze shut quickly and then pop back open. She's not the type to ask for help, or whine when something unfortunate happens to her. She sucks it up and puts on a brave face, because if she gave up every time she got hurt, well, she wouldn't be living much.
"Still hurts, doesn't it?" he mops up the water, nudging her to sit down while he cleans it up.
"It's much better than it was," she forces a smile, sitting back against the cupboards.
"I know that's your version of lying," Liam rolls his eyes, "Can I try something?"
"By all means," she waves her uninjured arm, inviting him to come closer.
He scoots over to her, letting his fingers dance across her palm experimentally. He's aware that his heart rate has picked up significantly and he hopes to god that she can't hear it. Her palm flexes open, allowing him to intertwine his fingers with hers. Sure enough his veins begin to turn black as her pain is transferred to him. Scott taught him how to absorb the pain of others through animals at the clinic, but this is the first time he's done it with something other than a dog.
"It's working," she sighs in relief, letting her head fall back. The absence of pain is almost euphoric.
For Liam it's a little less than pleasant. His face contorts into a strained scowl while she grins blissfully, her eyes fluttering shut for just a moment. It burns. It burns so bad that Liam wants to yelp in pain, but he holds it in, letting her relish in relief for just a little bit longer.
"You can let go now. I can manage," she announces, looking at him fondly.
"Are you sure?" he asks, hesitant to disconnect their hands.
"Yeah, plus I'm afraid you might break my hand if you squeeze any harder, and that is the exact opposite of the solution to our problem," she laughs lightly, removing her tiny hand from his grip.
"Sorry, I didn't realize," he looks at her apologetically.
"No harm done," she uses his shoulder to hoist herself up.
He looks at her with wide eyes as if to say 'oh really?'
"Okay, maybe some harm done. But I don't fault you for it. Now get up and help finish frosting the cupcakes."
Liam nods compliantly, hopping to his feet. He's not experienced in the kitchen, but how hard can frosting cupcakes be? Plus he definitely owes her for all the trouble he's caused in the past twenty minutes. Who knew he could do so much damage in such a short amount of time.
**
"Are you gonna make more sugar crystals?" Liam inquires, spreading light blue frosting over the cupcakes he's been assigned.
"Sugar crystals can suck my ass," she scowls, blaming the food more than she blames Liam.
"Suck my ass," he giggles, the teenage boy in him making an appearance.
"It's gender neutral," she grins, opening a new can of frosting.
"I like it," Liam agrees.
They stay like this for a while, frosting baked goods and making conversation about whatever comes up. Every now and then they flick powdered sugar at each other, or smear frosting across each other's cheeks when they're not paying attention. Inevitably they both end up covered in frosting and powdered sugar.
Liam moves to wipe the blue frosting off his cheek with a wet towel, but she stops him before the towel gets anywhere near his face.
"Wanna play a game?" she grins cheekily.
"Sure," Liam nods, putting the towel down.
"It's called no hands. My mom and I used to play it when I was younger and would help her bake," she explains, "You can't use your hands to wipe anything off."
"What can you use?" he inquires.
"Anything else," she licks frosting off the back of her hand, "My mom tried to lick flour off her elbow for a good twenty minutes once."
"How did that end?"
"She gave up eventually."
Liam has never been one to deny a challenge. Especially not one that involves ingesting any type of sugar. After all, it would be a waste to simply wash off the frosting decorating their skin. They might as well have some fun with it.
"Game on," he grins, licking the side of his hand.
**
An hour and a half later they've managed to have all the food done and ready. The cupcakes are frosted, the lasagna is baked, the salads have been assembled, and the bowls of candy have been sorted. They've also managed to keep up the no hands game rather successfully. This is not how she planned to complete the task Lydia has assigned, but it turned out much better.
"I can't believe we're actually done," Liam breathes out, leaning against the counter.
"Two hours and ten cans of frosting later," she jokes, brushing the back of her hand against her nose to itch it. Frosting on the side of her arm rubs off on her lip, coating the flesh in a sugary blue cream.
"Wonderful," she laughs, noting how she has frosting just about everywhere now.
"Here," Liam picks up a towel, and moves towards her, "I got it."
She backs away from him, causing Liam to scrunch his face up in confusion.
"No hands," she quirks her eyebrow.
"W-what?" Liam stutters.
"That's the rule. You can't use your hands."
"What do you want me to use?" his eyes dart everywhere but her face, a light blush creeping into his cheeks.
"Judging by the redness of your cheeks, I'd say you already know," she smirks, tilting her head.
"Do you... Do you want me to?" he searches for clarification.
"Only if you want to," she panics a little; afraid she may have misread the way he regards her.
"Oh I want to," he confirms confidently, fitting his lips against hers before he loses his nerve.
The frosting is sweet and melts in their mouths quickly. After the thin barrier dissolves it's just lips on lips that have a lingering taste of sugar and vanilla. Her fingers brush over his cheekbone, further spreading the pearlescent frosting that's been there for quite sometime now. Their searching hands smear whatever was on their body beforehand, creating an even bigger mess than there already was. But they don't seem to mind.
Her body buzzes everywhere Liam touches, taking her mind off the dull burning sensation in her arm. She quickly decides that he's a better pain reliever than aspirin as his fingers knot in her hair, streaking the tresses with something blue.
They pull away, their chests rising and falling rapidly. Her eyes flash purple while his have turned yellow, the kiss making their bodies go haywire. He rests his forehead against her, letting his fingers toy with hers gently.
"That wasn't how I was planning on coming clean about my feelings for you," he chuckles, his breath hitting her face.
She returns the laugh, kissing the tip of his nose sweetly.
"Since when do things ever go according to plan around here?"
