don't get too close

liminal: adj. occupying a position at, or on both sides of, a boundary or threshold. Lydia Martin. 20. Research associate and adjunct professor at Beacon Hills University. And that's all you need to know. tracked: #liminallydia icon credit.

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C'est la Vie [Lydia]

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"Go ahead, I can’t promise to be as sparkling a conversationalist as he is. I’m sure you’ll have a grand time," Allison countered, the effect of which was rather wasted as she poured them each a healthy drink in a flute glass. It was a dessert wine, but they were eating on a couch and even if the cutlery was inscribed with their restaurant’s logo, it was still plastic. With their dinner boxes, she brought a pile of paperwork that she regretted taking home, adjusting so that as she sat cross-legged on the couch, her knee threatened to knock against Lydia’s. 

Part of her wanted to ask if this movie was still Lydia’s quintessential date night movie, but it was a jab that shot too close to home, and Allison still wondered about Jackson. She didn’t wish him ill, but she wondered if he was a subject Lydia would breech without prompting.

He wasn’t worth it in her opinion. 

Maybe she should have thought about her question more thoroughly. “Is this still the best Nicholas Sparks film out there?”

[liminal-lydia-blog]

Lydia tried not to appear blatantly disdainful when Allison returned bearing paperwork. She knew the two of them had different lifestyles; while Lydia was quite the fast worker, it was impossible for her to always be done when the clock struck quitting time. However, because she wasn't in a leadership position, what she didn't finish could be returned to the next morning.

Allison didn't have such a luxury, and she probably faced far more interruptions in her day than Lydia did. So Lydia withheld her comments—that the Bureau didn't own Allison, that she could put her work down for just an evening. It wouldn't do to pick a fight while she was here, no matter how harmless she may have considered her teasing jabs.

But perhaps she would have been better off veering the subject in a direction that didn't pertain to the film that had already begun to make her uncomfortable. "It's the only one anyone cares about," she said lightly, tossing her hair over her shoulder. She took a hearty drink from her glass before continuing. "I would've pegged you to be more of a Terminator type. Fast & Furious, The Expendables—y'know, fast cars, faster men, and explosions galore." She quirked an eyebrow in her friend's direction. "Too close to work?"

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C'est la Vie [Lydia]

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The radio filled their silences. It was more comfortable than Allison expected it to be. Maybe she was just tired, or Sebastian was being exceptionally well-behaved, but she doubted it. She liked this. She let herself enjoy it.

They kept dinner mostly light and borrowed something that uncontroversial. Lydia liked to watch Ryan Gosling’s abs, and scenes in the rain were fun for everyone. Nicholas Sparks wrote heartfelt background noise, but when Allison pulled into her apartment complex, it was a bottle of wine that she was looking most forward to.

"Make yourself at home. Just put the movie on. The remote’s over there." Allison excused herself to deal with her mutant crab. She tried and failed to not think about how Lydia saw her apartment. Ever since the lock down, she hadn’t had much of a chance to tidy up the place.

It was decently sized flat, with a living room that was mostly taken up by a beige leather couch and flat screen television. It was separated from the bedroom by half a wall, with an adjacent picture of the French countryside stealing attention from the gap. A sandbag hung in one corner, over a set of weights that Allison thought she’d have more time to use. She kept nothing incriminating in her apartment. She kept nothing that could identify who she was, either.

What was most important about it was that there was no place she couldn’t glimpse from the entrance.

Allison returned in a pair of sweats, with a bottle of sparkling wine. When she folded herself into the couch, she sincerely hoped Lydia didn’t mind.

[liminal-lydia-blog]

There was the slightest thrill of nervous anticipation at seeing Allison's home, but once she was within its wall, the place made perfect sense. It wasn't flashy, but then, neither was Allison. And yet, there was a sense of comfort to it that Lydia appreciated. Or perhaps she was still appreciating being let in. She'd never imagined she'd ever find herself viewing another agent's residence; she knew for sure there was no chance she'd ever be inviting anyone over. But then, she supposed that with her current location taken into consideration, Allison would make an exception, as always.

Lydia ignored the urge to poke around as Allison excused herself. Things around her appeared to be what they seemed, but with Bureau employees, one could never be too sure. But the plainness of the apartment didn't seem deceptive, but purposeful, and that was enough to put her curiosity to rest. Instead, Lydia busied herself with starting the movie and settling into the couch. It was surprisingly comfortable. *She* was surprisingly comfortable.

It had been a long time since she'd seen The Notebook, and it wasn't until she'd started it that Lydia realized just how much this film now reminded her of Jackson. When Allison returned, she was a little stiff, but brightened considerably at the sight of what her friend was carrying. "You'd better intend on sharing, or I'm hanging out with Mister Crabs back there."

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Temporary Lessee [Lydia]

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He should have his own grand debut.

[Her tone suggested jest, but if Lydia actually went along with that - well, Allison would not be averse to helping her set something up.]

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"You're ridiculous." She tried to keep the smile off her face, and totally failed. If it were anyone else, she wouldn't have gone along with their lame shenanigans, but this was Allison, who was fast becoming the exception to all of Lydia's rules. 

"Besides, we can't debut what most people won't have clearance to know about!" She snickered, tone taking on a sense of faux importance. "Introducing... wait, no, nevermind."

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Temporary Lessee [Lydia]

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He’d wear that name better.

That’s a little mean.

So what do you have in mind?

[liminal-lydia-blog]

He'll wear what he gets and love it, I assure you.

I can't believe I'm debating dog names right now. This should not be something I devote brain power to. His name is going to be classified information as of right this second.

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Temporary Lessee [Lydia]

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You’re naming him! 

I suppose ‘Sir Aiden of the House of Martin’ is still off the table?

[liminal-lydia-blog]

Of course. I figured referring to him as "it" long-term would be a bit cruel.

Why, pray tell, would I ever want to name him after one of the twins? 

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Temporary Lessee [Lydia]

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Well.

Maybe I’ll accept a seat at Congress once you and Marshmallow take over the world, instead.

[liminal-lydia-blog]

Well. For your information, his name is not Marshmallow. It's—well, I  haven't decided on a name yet.

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Dog Days (Part 1 of 2)

Lydia moves his cage into her office, and returns any questioning looks from passersby with a silencing glare.

He hates the cage, and she's not surprised. He's let out of it with a stern warning that if he doesn't behave, she won't hesitate to shove him back in it, and with her office door closed, Lydia doesn't have to feel as foolish as she normally would for speaking to something that probably just barely fits into proper canine classifications.

But aside from being highly excitable, and starving—Lydia assumes that either no substitute for those pellets were found, or there wasn't an attempt made to feed the poor thing at all, and frowns the entire time it takes an intern to procure something he *will* eat, before he writes himself a death sentence by chewing on her shoes.

Aside from that, for once, a day passes uneventfully. Except of course, now Lydia has lined herself up for a yet another heart wrenching goodbye from the not-dog she still has yet to name. It's almost like he can tell when she rises from her seat and looks in the direction of his cage for the first time in hours; he latches onto her leg, whimpering, and only settles when she sighs and sits down again, scooping him into her lap. He makes himself comfortable instantly, and Lydia both watches and feels the tension leave his body.

"You look like a knockoff Prada bag," she murmurs, stroking his fur soothingly. "I always hated the ones with the stripes." Oh, if Allison could see her now. Not that the other agent hadn't seen enough already.

She realizes belatedly that brown eyes are now gazing up at her. "It's alright. Not everyone can be genuine Prada." Something about the bark that follows makes her a little thoughtful. Prada is a better name than Marshmallow, after all. But no. She is not naming this dog, she is putting it back in the cage, and going home.

Or so she thinks. Ten minutes of struggle on one side and crying on the other proves Lydia may need to make an adjustment to her plans—or her entire life. She may even need to make an appointment with Dr. Morgan, as she has clearly gone crazy. 

"Alright, fine," she grumbles. "I'll take you home. But if you ruin anything, I will have you barbecued." She wonders if he would even burn, but the scent of sizzling fur, even in her imagination is horrifying enough to have her quickly shut the thought down.

The drive home feels every bit like a getaway joyride away from some kind of robbery, rather than the start of her losing every precious item in her home.

Her office fire extinguisher is in the back seat, just in case.

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C'est la Vie [Lydia]

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The moment Lydia turned, a shameful, quiet little whimper echoed through the room, like the canine she’d abandoned was trying to stifle itself. He sounded like he was lost, or maybe, he just didn’t understand. He thought everything had been going well, with no reason not to, up until he was splashed in the face, but even then, he’d been kept. 

Allison looked between Lydia and the pup over her shoulder, and appreciated how quickly the ground could shift around everyone Lydia spent time with. She’d been granted a glimpse of what hid behind a painted smile, and Allison couldn’t tell if she was intruding or if, for once, it hadn’t been a deliberate move on the other woman’s part. By now, she thought she’d be comfortable enough to ignore that query.

"And we’re steering clear of seafood," she added pointedly, busying herself with making sure Sebastian’s case was balanced before turning on her heel and starting towards the garage. The hamster cage only banged her knee when she moved to grab her phone out of her bag, offering it to Lydia. "Call ahead to that French place on Madison?  We can pick up a movie on the way out, too?"

[liminal-lydia-blog]

A whimper pierced the air behind her, and Lydia required a significant amount of effort to keep her annoyance off of her face. She pretended she hadn't heard. Acknowledging the source would only send a signal that pitiful whimpers worked on her, even if the noise had made something in her stomach tighten. She would not let an animal several times smaller than her get the better of her. There was a reason humans were at the apex of the animal kingdom—even though once you began counting supernatural creatures, things definitely became debatable. Whatever.

Lydia snorted at Allison's insistence that ocean-dwellers were off limits. The researcher may have gotten somewhat attached to her surprise of the day, but it was clear she wasn't alone. "I suppose I'll have to satisfy that craving on my own," she teased. She took Allison's phone easily, only smirking a little. This was quickly turning into quite a date, but Lydia knew they could both use the time away from headquarters. That is, if they would eve be allowed the break. Who knew when the next disaster would strike?

Getting seats would have been impossible, but that wasn't something they needed to worry about when they were getting their food to-go. She put a modest effort into small talk in the car, mostly concerned with keeping her mind off of the furry creature she'd left behind. What was it about that thing? She supposed she should have been glad it was harmless enough to even grow attached to. Had she been the recipient of Robert's poisonous little sentient gas bubble, her day would have been much different.

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Temporary Lessee [Lydia]

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I appreciate that, what with it being a subjective term.

But I’m still waiting on Ariel pictures before I’m convinced.

[liminal-lydia-blog]

And here I was, hoping that had slipped your mind by now. It's too late for me to take those words back, isn't it. 

[twdailygraphics]

"Genius? Yes." - (inspiration)

[mermaidblues]

[beryexs-deactivated20170706]

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Temporary Lessee [Lydia]

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Oh. Wow. Disney and the Incredibles - It’s like I’m seeing a whole new side of you.

I’m sure Stiles is funny enough for the both of them.

[liminal-lydia-blog]

Yes, I know—it's almost like I'm an actual, multifaceted human being. Who knew.

I'll allow your loose use of the word "funny".

[feelslikedonovanmorgan]

There are times posted

[feelslikedonovanmorgan]

I’m afraid it became very dull after my astronaut dreams were squashed by prescription glasses and reality.

[liminal-lydia-blog]

Something tells me there's a little more to it than that, but I don't blame you for wanting to keep your life to yourself. 

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To: Lydia

Allison: I don't know which interns did these interrogations, but I need to talk to their supervisor.

Allison: Do you need my earlier investigation files? I'll be back at the office in 20.

Lydia: At this point, I'm no longer surprised when work of this quality is produced.

Lydia: Even if Scooby-Doo would have made a better investigator.

Lydia: That would be nice, actually.

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To: Lydia

Allison: Did you get the update? There's been a breakthrough.

Lydia: Yep. Got pen and paper out right now.

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Temporary Lessee [Lydia]

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Don’t you need a cape?

Stiles might need the help. Can’t let this - brand of humor fall to the wayside.

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No capes. Haven't you seen The Incredibles?

And what a brand it is. I'm sure he can handle it though. I'd say he could get Hale to help him out, but I don't think Derek has ever made a joke in his life.