"Afraid of me," repeats Yvette, a trace of amused. ... A trace of satisfied, actually. Why yes, she is terrifying, he should be afraid. Along with everyone else in this fucking town. "Well. Is there a way to make it clear I don't want him to suffer?"

"...I don't know. Derek doesn't trust people generally, it won't matter that you've done a lot while you're here if he decides he can't trust you. We might still be able to stop him from making more betas. I'll think about it, and talk to Dr. Deaton tonight. First, I want to go see Lydia."

Yes, but Scott, you're an idiot, so what you want doesn't matter very much.

"Does Dr. Deaton have a useful perspective on the situation?" wonders Yvette.

"Uh. I thought so?"

"If he does then I would like to speak to him." Can she manage to turn off the even, no-nonsense tone? ... Ahahaha, no. No, that is how she starts shouting. Let's not. "What's your relationship with him?"

"He's my boss at the vet clinic. He knows about magic and werewolves, though he keeps a lot of secrets."

"Is all of his knowledge from you, or..?"

"No. He and Derek are where I get most of my knowledge about all of this stuff. And Allison."

Then you should have fucking told Yvette about him sooner, shouldn't you.

Yvette bites back the rage, again. She will work through it later, with some sort of healthy outlet of some kind. Martial arts. Kickboxing. Pyromania. She'll figure it out.

"Okay," she says, instead. In the same even tone. "Then yeah, I'd like to talk to him. But Lydia first, you're right, if something's going on with her now we need to know."

"Okay. Let's go."

Drive.

Eventually, they arrive.

Her house is a standard suburban home, with a coat of, if not fresh, not faded paint. 

Well, if Yvette were surrounded by sane, intelligent people, she'd just let them do the talking. But she is not, she is clearly the smartest person in this town, so she'll need to verify that they have intelligent things to say before she lets them talk to people.

"How well do either of you know her parents?" she asks, not getting out of the car just yet.

"Her dad doesn't live with them, and we're not really friends." 

"Okay, so we don't know if we can trust her mom to accept the weird shit in stride. So - is there some sort of way you could talk to Lydia and get her to meet me out here? Sans parents until we know anything about them?" She doesn't want to play cloak and dagger, but she wants to deal with 'and the government would like to study and dissect werewolves' even less.

"We could call Allison, she and Lydia are actually friends."

And Allison has been entirely reasonable -

"That works. I should possibly plan better before we actually get to places, we're going to seem like strange creepers..." That last part was mostly to herself.

"Well, Lydia knows us, we're all friends with Allison."

"Stiles was there when she was attacked. He called the ambulence. And there was what happened at the party. He could just be showing concern." 

"Do you think it's very likely that she'll want to meet me based on your say so?" This is addressed to Stiles.

"Maybe Scott should ask her." 

She looks between Scott and Stiles, and measures dealing with the fallout of Scott inevitably fucking it up versus the trouble of calling Allison to tell Lydia to come meet her.

"All right. I'll - be out here, then," she says, a trace of hesitant. They can't fuck it up that badly, can they? Stiles is present, he's a bit of an asshole but he was downright helpful when talking to Derek.

And so she waits. 

Scott knocks.  

A woman with red hair who could have a daughter that looks like Yvette answers.

"Hello? Oh, I remember you. Stiles, wasn't it? Are you looking for Lydia?"  

"Could you tell her Scott and Stiles are here to see her? It's about the party last night. We just wanted to check up on her."