aroceu: (vetty)
black slacks with accentuating offwhite pinstripes ([personal profile] aroceu) wrote2014-02-01 02:55 pm

WIP Amnesty: Allison/Lydia bounty hunter/thief AU

I was so sure I posted this here earlier! Anyway, an excuse for me to post something to [community profile] wip_amnesty.

This was written on February 1, 2014, according to gdrive. This is a backdated entry.


Allison gets a note that says you’re looking pretty tonight when she comes home from a particularly exhausting chase. The note is on her kitchen sink, which means someone’s been inside when she was out.

She checks her house for a total of ten minutes to see if anything is missing--notably, her secret stash of knives under her bed and most of her desk drawers. They all seem untouched, so Allison focuses on the note again.

The thing is, she knows she recognizes the handwriting. She’s had to look for numerous thieves several times, and there are still several crooks out there, running free but mostly hiding from her.

Allison runs her thumb over the cursive print. Her forefinger brushes against some solid marking on the back, and she traces that too, spelling out a familiar name.


Lydia Martin has been an active thief for almost five years. Allison’s been hired four times by very disappointed clients to catch her, though to Martin’s credit she’s changing her wardrobe probably by the hour and doesn’t follow a particular pattern.

Allison’s one of the best (and only) independent detectives in the Beacon Hills area. She also prides herself on the ability to complete her tasks without seriously injuring anyone.

“So what exactly does that accomplish?” Erica asks. They’re doing their usual practice in the woods, which mostly consists of seeing who can shoot arrows or throw knives at the center of a target harder to knock the other’s weapon off.

“Not needing to send anyone to the hospital,” says Allison.

“And what?” asks Erica. “Worried about them pressing charges? Even though most people we go after are murderers or burglars themselves?”

She throws a dagger at the target on the tree. It lands square in the middle.

“Less messy,” Allison answers. “Besides, in a lot of situations I don’t have to significantly injure someone.”

“Yeah, just twist their ankle or something.” Erica rolls her eyes.

Allison fires an arrow at Erica’s knife and it falls to the ground. Allison smirks.

“Okay, you won.” Erica starts to grab her knife. “Not like it’s much use if you don’t actually use it on someone, though.”

“I threaten people and sometimes pin them down!” says Allison, and Erica goes, “Yeah, yeah.”

As she waits for Erica, Allison absently feels at her back pocket. She’d folded and tucked the note from last night in there this morning, though she’s not sure why.

“Hey,” she says, when Erica comes back. “So my apartment was broken into last night.”

Erica raises an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“I mean nothing was stolen,” says Allison. “She left a note. That’s all.”

Erica’s other eyebrow goes up. “She?”


The price on Lydia’s (figurative) head is over a thousand dollars, and Allison’s pretty sure she’s caught glimpses of her at the mall.

A few days later she visits her friends at the police station, because unlike Erica she doesn’t shout to demand credit every time she turns someone in. Although she may have given Officer McCall a handjob once for notably full credit in the newspaper.

“Don’t tell me you’ve come to rub another successful case in our face,” says Officer Stilinski when she walks into his office. And then, “oh god that rhymes.”

“Of course not.” Allison sits back in the chair opposite. “Except on Wednesday I caught whoever’s been defiling the Beacon Hills memorial.”

“What,” says Stilinski. “But we filed the report on Thursday morning--”

“I had some fun and turned him in Thursday afternoon.” Allison grins.

“Wow.” Stilinski covers his face with his hands. “Wow. I did not need to know that.”

“The intricate details of Allison’s sex life?” McCall comes in with a few files in his hands. “Hey Allison,” he says, brushing past her.

“Hi Scott,” says Allison cheerfully. “Anything new that I might’ve figured out already?”

“Yeah,” says McCall. “Like getting you to be paid more than in tips and lenience on the road.”

Allison rolls her eyes. “I told you, I have a job too, you know,” she says. “Other than catching fugitives and bad people and stuff--I’m not even a detective--”

“By law you are,” says Stilinski. “Well okay maybe not by law, but you’ve definitely figured out who people are and then--caught them, so.”

“Plus you’re good,” says McCall. “Like, really really good.”

“You flatter me,” says Allison, but she’s grinning. “Is there anything you want me to do then, or anyone you need me to catch--”

Stilinski opens his mouth, but at that moment his phone rings. He nudges Scott.

“Pick it up,” he says.

McCall says, “It’s your phone! You pick it up.”

“It’s so far away from me.” Stilinski’s leaning back in his chair, and pointedly grasps at the air.

McCall sighs and answers the phone. “Hello?”

Allison watches as his nose crinkles in confusion. After a beat, he hands the phone over to Allison and says, “Someone wants to talk to you?”

Allison frowns and takes it. “Hello?”

“It’s been a while since I’ve heard you, sweetie.”

The voice on the other end is sweet and Allison’s heart immediately jumps in her throat. She wonders why she hadn’t kept the note in her pocket today.

“Lydia?” she breathes.

Lydia chuckles. “It’s also been a while since I’ve heard you say my name,” she says. “When was the last time? About six months ago?”

“I… can’t remember,” says Allison. She’s probably talked about Lydia outside of strictly case business. Not like Lydia has any way of knowing.

“Well, I just thought I’d say hi,” she says. “Did you like my note yesterday?”

Allison clears her throat. “It was very flattering. Um,” she says, “but you were still breaking the law.”

McCall and Stilinski are watching her intently, and glance at each other when Allison says that.

Lydia laughs. “I break the law almost every day,” she says. “You say that like it’s news to me.”

“You go around stealing into people’s homes every day?”

“No, I dress to kill every day.”

Allison can almost see the smirk on her face, red hair whipping in the wind like the last time they saw each other when Lydia said goodbye. “That was terrible,” she says, breaking out of her thoughts. “It’s a good thing you don’t try to be a stand-up comedian.”

Stilinski whispers loudly, “Are you kidding.”

“I’m awesome at pretty much everything I do,” Lydia says lightly. “Including covering my traces, so tell Officers McCall and Stilinski not to worry about it when we’re done here, okay?”

Allison glances at McCall and Stilinski, and tries to hide her smile into the phone. “Who says we have to be done?” she asks. “Soon? Or at all?”

“You don’t have to try to be smooth, Allison,” says Lydia. “I already like you.” And then, “Goodbye.”

Allison hands the phone back when all she hears is a dial tone.

Stilinski says, “Quick, Scott, get something so we can trace the--”

“It’ll be pointless,” says Allison, shaking her head. “She’s already covered it up.”

Scott leans forward. “You said Lydia,” he says. “Like, Lydia Martin? Super infamous jewel thief? And art thief? And… everything thief?”

“Yeah.” Allison sighs wistfully.

“I wish someone would catch her,” Stilinski mutters.

Allison says, “I wish I could.”


(job ???

lydia leaving more notes uvu

stiles is totally secretly working for lydia

lydia physically appears in the fic in the middle and in the end

erica!!! n__n)