this is a chemistry lesson

[episodic]

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[beanchaointe]

Okay.

[She turns to face him with a small smile when she finishes.]

Let's take a walk.

[unforgivably]

( Okay. He waves to Brady, the bartender, holds open the front door and begins the shortest walk possible. But, more time with Lydia is nice. He hasn't had this in a long time. Just a nice conversation with mutual interest involved. )

Nice rental.

( Not a bad car for a rental, too. They either give you someone out of - well, a human price range - or something completely generic. )

What do you do back in Boston, Lydia?

[beanchaointe]

Teach math.

[Because that really is the simplest answer.]

I'm working on my doctorate at MIT. By day, I try to enrich young minds, and by night I stare at numbers until the proofs start to make sense.

[unforgivably]

Or, until the sun rises and you teach more youths.

( Make no mistake, despite his joke, his eyes make it clear, he respects her work. )

You find it rewarding.

[beanchaointe]

I do. Math has always had a way of making sense when nothing else does. There's no ... room for interpretation. The math either adds up or it doesn't.

[She shrugs.]

And teaching it to kids who equally love it is very enjoyable.

[unforgivably]

Yeah? I was never a math guy. I get it. It's straightforward. My life, math was the least of my worries.

( He's more street smart. )

But, we need people like you. With math comes societal progress.

[beanchaointe]

Yes it does.

[And she seems pleased that he recognizes that. That is, up until they're passing by the town square, and her attention is drawn to the empty space.

It's been a while since she's felt like she was walking into a graveyard, a place where death is sure to happen, she just isn't sure where or when. It's not enough to take her out of the moment, but it is enough to draw her attention and slow her steps, looking out into the park space as though she's looking for something she can't find.]

[unforgivably]

( He's seen it personally over the century, he can say it.

He slows down when Lydia does, giving her the second as she -- zones out. )

Everything alright there?

( He gets a real witchy bent from this, and wouldn't that be a coincidence. )

Lydia?

[beanchaointe]

[She blinks when he says her name, coming back to herself and shaking her head, trying to come back to herself. Then she looks up with a small smile.]

Sorry. It's been a long day. I'm starting to turn into a space case.

[unforgivably]

It's okay. Long drive. Weather. My company. You're bound to have a reaction.

( Let the record show, he would like it to be a favorable one.

Damon successfully walks her the two blocks out from the square to a charming never before heard from Mystic B & B.

Inside, Damon sees the light and someone at the desk. )

Looks like they're still booking.

[beanchaointe]

Looks like.

[She turns to face him with a small smile.]

Thanks for walking me over. I'll see you tomorrow when I pick up my car?

[She doesn't think she'll be leaving Mystic Falls anytime soon, but she should at least move her car.]

[unforgivably]

I'll be there around ten. If it's after that, stop on by.

( He gives her one more smile before quitting while he's ahead. He turns to go and after a few feet, just makes sure she makes it in the front door with her things. )

This night took a turn for the beautiful.

[beanchaointe]

[She smirks a bit at the comment, before shaking her head and heading inside. After arranging for her room, she sits on the edge of the bed and pulls out her phone, sending off a quick text to Stiles:]

Something bad is going to happen in Mystic Falls, VA.

[phonetically]

( Stiles needs to file this in this mind accordingly, while also deciding to add anyone in on this. )

Is this one of those, for dramatic effect, texts, or a vague banshee something bad update?

[beanchaointe]

Vague banshee something bad.

[phonetically]

Okay. So, Scott and everyone's pretty tied up on a job in New Orleans. A big one.

Should I send in the C Team? Is this supernatural C team something bad or I can send a guy around tomorrow something bad? FBI or SPN?

[beanchaointe]

SPN probably? I don't know. But if it's as bad as I felt we'll need whoever we can get.

[phonetically]

I don't know who I can break away. Maybe the Hales.

Maybe Isaac is in the states. Let me see what magic my fingers can work.

Thanks, Lydia. What time are you getting here?

[beanchaointe]

I'm not. I'm staying here.

[Which she knows he's not going to like but she's gonna do it anyway.]

[phonetically]

Lydia, your banshee lighthouse is on, the light is going back and forth well, not, drawing you in because that's not what lighthouses do. But, it's like, not going to the Nematon. Or, Eichen House. Like, WHY go toward the danger? Is your rental okay? I can get you another rental. I can drive down myself.

and separately, for Isaac & Cora

[phonetically]

( With lightning speed, Stiles sends out two texts? )

| to Cora

What's your NOLA ETA?

| to Isaac

Hey, it's Stiles. Any chance you're not in Europe rn? How about the East Coast?

[impetere]

We're in Tennessee. Why?

[aka she doesn't know how long it's going to be, but they're about equidistant from New Orleans and where you might want her to go, Stiles.]

[phonetically]

Lydia's got a banshee of a bad feeling going down for Mystic Falls, can one of you head North?

[notwitty]

Do you need me on the east coast?

[Because London is still a mess and he was heading to Prague.]

[phonetically]

Better than any other coast right now. Lydia's banshee senses are tingling and you know when they crop up, it's only a matter of time before the dead bodies.

But, if you're still in Europe and more than a nine hour flight away, I know you're doing good work there.