To Pluto's Moon

“What was that all about?” Scott called after Stiles, as he struggled to keep pace with him. Stiles had attempted to sit still, keep his eyes forward, and pay attention in class, but he couldn't. Not for a second. Naeya had an aura about her that was as intense as it was peaceful. To Stiles she seemed perfectly at ease next to him, at BHH, in this world. It didn't make any sense the first time he tried to explain it to Scott, but it made sense in his head.

When the bell rang, Naeya rose up from her seat and gracefully walked into the hall, glancing at Stiles over her shoulder and shooting him a small smile. Stiles stared after her and the empty space she left behind. Once Lydia snapped her fingers in front of his face to grasp his attention, he sprung out of his chair and all but ran after Naeya. He looked everywhere, standing on his tip toes in search of her in the wave of students getting out of class. But it was no use. She was already gone.

Stiles slumped over a random locker and sulked.

“Dude, seriously. Talk to me,” Scott pushed.

“What's happening now?” Malia asked pointedly. Lydia felt a surge of annoyance at Malia's attitude. If she expected them to get back together, she sure was making it difficult for herself. Lydia tilted her head and made eye contact with Malia.

“Stiles met his dream girl.” Stiles whirled around and met Malia's eyes for a tense, long moment. She huffed and roughly brushed past him. Stiles followed her, pleading.

“Lydia doesn't mean my dream girl! She's literally saying that the girl I had a dream about-” Malia shot him an incredulous look, making Stiles backpedal. “No, I don't mean I dreamt about another girl – I mean I did, but it wasn't anything I don't even know her, I swear!”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Stiles asked, releasing his breath.

“Okay. If you say you don't know her, I believe you.”

“Oh thank-”

“What was the dream about?” Stiles sputtered, swallowing hard and thinking of any way to get out of explaining this to her. He anxiously peered over to Scott, who was currently scratching the back of his head and staying out of it. Meanwhille, Lydia watched, amused. How you gonna get out of this one, Stilinski?

“I-I, I can't say.” Malia shook her head in disgust.

“Wow. Good luck with that, asshole. She's way out of your league,” she spat, before striding down the corridor.

Stiles threw up his hands, exasperated.

“It's over. She literally fuckin' hates me, man.” He slid down the to the floor and buried his face in his hands.

“Well, you did have a wet dream about the new girl,” Scott offered.

“You're not helping. Oh and thanks for leaving me hanging like that by the way. You're a real bro.” Lydia chuckled quietly to herself as she gathered her textbook for the next class from her bag. “And you! Dream girl? Are you friggin kidding me?!” Lydia rolled her eyes at him and squatted down in front of him.

“Listen, Stiles. I know you're holding out hope for you and Malia. I know you guys still care about each other, but let's be honest here. Malia is a ticking time-bomb. She's a stubborn, hot-headed werecoyote who refuses to be open and emotionally connected to the boy she's in love with. And you're an awkward, self-deprecating teenage boy with a slew of psychological issues as a direct result from being possessed by a thousand year-old demon. You both need to sort yourselves out before you can even think about dating again.”

“What she said,” Scott agreed. “Really though, maybe you guys don't get back together, so what? You still have us. And no matter what she says, she'll be there for you. But then again, maybe you guys were meant to be together. The timing might just be off.”

Stiles glanced back in forth between his two best friends and sighed heavily. “I'm still pissed at you guys...but I get it.” Scott offered a hand to his friend and helped him off the ground.

“So what do you think the deal was with that dream?”

“I don't know man. I swear, I've never met nor seen her before. I don't know how I could have dreamt about someone I've never met.” Lydia shook her head and piped in.

“You can dream about someone you've seen in passing. It could be a split second or in your peripheral, but it's more likely that you've seen her before and have simply forgotten. Because otherwise...”

“Otherwise, she was brought here by the nemeton.” Scott placed a firm hand on his shoulder and looked his friend in the eyes. “You need to figure this out, Stiles. And you need to be careful.”

“It's obvious you've piqued her interest. Why? I have no idea. But if you wanna find out why she was here in the first place, she already gave you an easy way in. Plus she's eye candy, which should distract you from you know,” Lydia motions her head toward the end of the corridor. “That one.”

“The three of you! Get to class, now!” Mr. Hopkins yelled. The group scurried down the corridor and out of sight. Lydia continued walking, heading to class.

“Goodbye to you, too,” Stiles called out, waving to her back.

“Stiles, do me favor?

“Yeah, sure. What do you need?”

“Try not to obsess over Malia. It's our senior year, and you deserve every moment of happiness and normalcy you can find.” Stiles nodded his head and sighed.

“Yeah, I hear you man. And thanks. See you at lunch?”

“See ya.”

Stiles swung his backpack over his shoulder and trudged on towards second period. He wasn't in any mood, but he was ten minutes late and knew that Mrs. Taylor would rip him a new one if he made this a habit. So as soon as he opened the door, he ducked his head and tried to sneak past her.

“Don't think I didn't see you, Stilinski. Care to explain why you were late this time?”

“I was...uh...indisposed.” Mrs. Taylor grimaced at him, but continued on with her lecture. As Stiles walked down the aisle towards his seat, he caught her eye. Friggin again? He sat down, nervous and surprised. Naeya smiled up at him.

“Indisposed?” She chuckled.

“Yeah.” He scratched his head. “It's the first thing I could think of.”

“Ah, impulsive,” she teased. Stiles grinned from ear to ear, taking note of how the space between them buzzed with electricity.

“You could say that.”

“Stilinski! Detention, today.”

“What? What for?”

“For interrupting my class for the second time in the span of two minutes. And you,” Mrs. Taylor turned her attention to Naeya, “since you love speaking to him so much, you can join him this afternoon.”

“My apologies, Mrs. Taylor,” Naeya proclaimed solemnly.

“That's quite all right. Although, not a good first impression.” As soon as she turned around towards the blackboard, Naeya ripped out a page from her notebook and began writing. Stiles grew excited, and attempted to not exude anything but a cool exterior. Naeya paused for a second to bite her lip, an action that forced a sharp exhale out of him. She straightened up in her chair, eyes forward. Stiles followed her gaze to find Mrs. Taylor eying the both of them briefly, before moving on to address someone's question. Before he could process what was happening, Naeya's soft fingers met the center of Stiles' palm, lingering for a moment and then retreating back to her side. Stiles felt his hand buzzing with the same electricity he felt earlier. He opened her note with a surprisingly steady hand.



Stiles smiled down at her handwriting, musing at how he assumed it would girlier. He scratched out a quick response once Mrs. Taylor started walking his way, and clumsily tossed it into Naeya's lap.





Stiles could not stop the loud snort from escaping his nose. Naeya giggled beside him, happily watching as he scrambled to hide the paper and pull on a straight face. Once Stiles felt it was safe, he smirked, leaned back in his seat, and glanced at her. She was smiling, but she wasn't looking at him. Stiles scribbled his response and slid his response into her hand. He shocked her, or she shocked him. Either way, her head snapped up toward him, a breath visibly caught on her lips. What the hell was that? Naeya mused as she opened the note.













The bell rang, obnoxiously. The two made eye contact, laughing at how the time flew by. Naeya gathered her things quickly and began exiting the room alongside Stiles. The air was beginning to grow tense, and Stiles knew that if he let the feeling last too long, he'd undo all of the progress he'd just made. He spotted Scott down the hall, beckoning him over and looking curiously at the pair. It's now or never, Stilinski.

“Hey Naeya.” The two stepped aside in front of the lockers. He looked down at her, taking note at how close they were standing, and how nice it was that he was taller than her. “Regarding this?” He held up the note. “Trust me...I don't mind.”