One of the benefits of living in Beacon Hills (the few benefits, really, in the face of the rather ungodly amount of drawbacks, such as veritable legions of supernatural spooks constantly bearing down upon the town) was that the weather never really got cold, so things like amusement parks stayed open almost year-round.

This perk was especially blessed after spending a few weeks battling a trickster demon.

It had been Scott's idea, upon Allison's complete recuperation from her stab wound, for the pack to go and just have fun for an afternoon. The local theme park, still open for business in November, seemed ideal. So they all squashed into the Argents' SUV (since Roscoe, their usual preferred transportation, was not really meant to accommodate seven people including several large werewolves) and drove there one sunny Saturday.

Despite being meant for pack bonding, it transpired that everybody wanted to do something different. Allison still wanted to take it easy, Isaac wanted funnel cake, Scott and Kira wanted to play games (wolf vs. kitsune, only one supernatural creature can reign supreme), Derek had no desire to be there at all, and Stiles and Lydia mostly just stood there watching the debate.

Stiles hadn't expressed much opinion on the day's activity. He hadn't expressed much opinion on a lot of things lately, which worried Lydia to no end. She stood beside him, watching his face out of the corner of her eye. It was still so much less animated than she was used to. Impulsively, she reached out and grabbed his hand. "Hey," she called to the others, "Stiles and I are going to walk around for a bit and check things out." Stiles himself looked at her, surprised, but didn't counter her statement. The others, especially Scott and Allison, looked frankly pleased and not a little amused.

"Okay, then," said Allison. "We'll split up for now. C'mon, Isaac, let's get that popcorn." She dragged him away, while he protested, "hey, I said funnel cake!" Derek went with Scott and Kira to play games, and that left Stiles and Lydia alone. Together.

He gave her a hint of a smile. They were still holding hands. "Okay, where do you want to go first?"

She shrugged. "I haven't been here in ages. Let's look at some rides."

Tightening her grip on his hand, Lydia led him in the direction of where the most promising (i.e., medium levels of terror - er, excitement) rides were. "When was the last time you were here?" she asked him, trying to provoke a more normal amount of words from him. For example, ten thousand.

"Uhh," he ran his free hand through his hair, "I think like, a couple of months before Scott got bitten?"

She nodded. "There's a lot of things we haven't done since before Scott got bitten." A smile quirked up on her face. "But y'know, I think there's even more that happened because of it, that I wouldn't trade for the world."

Stiles turned to look at her lightning-quick, and Lydia's smile widened. "Yes, I mean what you think I mean," she told him.

And he grinned back, more broadly and genuinely than he had since before the nogitsune, and squeezed her hand. "Come on," he said. "Let's go find a ride to put those banshee lungs to good use."

Lydia could have blanched at his words if they'd been said by anyone else. But it was Stiles, the boy who supported her absolutely through everything, who had more faith in her abilities than anyone and tried to help her see them as a useful gift instead of a curse. So she used her "banshee lungs" to laugh joyfully and walk hand in hand with him towards the rides.

They didn't end up riding that many scream-inducing rides, but they did get cotton candy and go on the ferris wheel. Lydia popped pieces of pink fluff into Stiles' mouth and giggled, aware that to all the world they looked like a dorky teenage couple. This was not something she had a problem with, she'd discovered.

The ferris wheel turned slowly, their little car swaying with the motion. In a quirk of fate that was right out of some dumb romantic comedy (which Lydia's life most certainly was not, just ask her banshee lungs), it paused right as she and Stiles reached the very top.

"Wow," Lydia said softly. "You can see… everything."

"Yeah." His voice sounded low and a little distracted, and she turned to look at him.

Only to find that he was already looking at her instead of the town lights in the distance. Their eyes locked, and Lydia felt her cheeks heat at the intensity of his gaze. They were still holding hands. It felt like there was some kind of irresistable magnetism drawing her towards him, something she'd felt before - when she found herself clinging to him for comfort and safety, leaning against him when they sat together. When she'd kissed him for the first time.

Lydia started leaning in slightly, and Stiles did the same. All of her focus was on his lips, and she licked her own in anticipation.

As soon as she did so, the slow, tentative way he'd been moving towards her was abandoned, and his free hand - the one that wasn't holding on so tightly to hers - came up to cup her face. And he kissed her. Softly, sweetly, and entirely too shortly.

He was smiling at her when he pulled away, and she made a face at him. "Stiles Stilinski," she said in an affronted tone, "if we are going to have our first real kiss, at the top of a ferris wheel no less," she gestured broadly to the great height (Shouldn't the ferris wheel be moving by now? Though Lydia wouldn't honestly mind if it was broken and they were stuck up here, together, for a while.) they were at, "then I think we can do better than that!"

"Okay," he agreed easily, his grin widening. His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her against him, and their lips met again. It was a more demanding kiss this time, Lydia pressing herself close and curling her free arm around his neck. Stiles brought their still-intertwined hands up and pressed hers right against his heart. She slid her tongue against the seam of his lips, and his mouth opened up in response, letting her slip her tongue inside to caress his, licking lightly against his teeth and making him groan softly. He started pushing back, the passion she knew he felt for her breaking through as he held her tighter and his kiss grew more desperate, his lips insistent and hungry.

They finally, reluctantly parted, and Stiles breathed out, "Lydia." She touched her forehead to his, and he rubbed his nose gently against hers. She sighed, melting into him and letting her head rest on his shoulder as he buried his face in her hair, still saying her name again and again.

The ferris wheel lurched slightly under them, finally resuming its rotations, and they unwound just slightly, looking at each other. Lydia didn't bother getting a last glimpse of the view. All she needed to see was the boy in front of her.

Her hands clutched the collar of his plaid flannel shirt and she stared into his bottomless honey-brown eyes. "I love you," she said in a tiny voice.

Stiles grinned, just a little. "I know."

"Now is not the time for your Han Solo impression, Stiles."

He chuckled, his forehead touching hers again. "I knew you liked the movies."

"Shush. Priorities."

"Right." He kissed her again, swift but tender. "I love you too. I always have." Their car on the ferris wheel was reaching the bottom, and any second they'd have to get out and leave this quiet bubble up in the air. "I always will."

The ride operator was gesturing at them to leave, and Lydia stood up, pulling Stiles with her by the hand. "Hurry up, Han. You're gonna go win me some prizes."

And even though it was cheesy, she couldn't help thinking she'd already won the best prize anyone ever could. Him.