Chapter Two: Russians

Things were bad. Borderline embarrassing, actually. It was official: Lydia had absolutely no life.

The day was Wednesday. Lydia loved Wednesdays. Why did Lydia love Wednesdays? Because she didn't have to work. And where was she spending her beloved day off? Still in the fucking mall.

On their daily call the night before, Robin had forgone her usual ramblings about the hot girl(s) she served that day and instead begged Lydia to come into Scoops to help them out with something "entirely ice cream unrelated." Now, personally, it wouldn't have been the approach Lydia would have taken. Like, Robin knew she was always happy to be bribed with ice cream, so why take it out of the equation?

It took a while, but Lydia ultimately ended up relenting. Mostly because she had nothing better to do, but also because Robin was being unusually secretive, which meant she was up to something and it was probably something dumb. So, automatically Lydia wanted to get involved. Plus, she was eventually promised a free supply of ice cream for the whole day. Who could argue with that?

So, there she was, sat in the staff room of Scoops Ahoy on a sunny Wednesday afternoon, feet up on a table, chewing the end of a pencil, wondering where it all went wrong.

Russians, apparently.

To be fair, Lydia was still getting her head around the whole explanation, but somehow Robin, Steve and a weird curly haired kid had intercepted a Russian call and now they wanted her help to...crack a code? Lydia honestly didn't know why. She wasn't the sharpest cookie in the shed and Robin knew that better than anyone.

"I just–" Lydia cut off, staring down at the mess of words scribbled on paper. The week is long. The silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west. A trip to China sounds nice if you tread lightly. Like, what the fuck? It honestly felt like reading a math equation. "None of this makes sense."

"It's not supposed to," Robin said, leaning over Lydia's shoulder to take another look. "Tread lightly..."

"I just don't get it. Why would evil Russians be in Hawkins?" Lydia asked. "Like what could they possibly want with our mall?"

"Well, that's what we're trying to find out."

"Robin, I really think we need to re-evaluate our lives," Lydia stated. "Our summer vacation should not involve cracking Russian codes with Steve Harrington and some strange kid. What's his name again?"

"Dustin."

"How does Steve even know him?" Lydia questioned. "Don't get me wrong, I can see how they'd get along since they probably have the same mental age and–"

A knock at the back door interrupted them. "Delivery!"

Robin moved to open it. Lydia picked the notepad back up and started re-reading through the code, slowly sounding out each word in her head. Truth be told, it was getting to the point where she felt as if she were actively losing brain cells the longer she stared at it.

"Holy fucking shit, Lydia!" Robin exclaimed as she shut the door behind her. "I just figured something out!"

Swiftly, Robin had snatched the notepad and grabbed Lydia's hand. She dragged her out of the chair and through the ice cream parlour, into the centre of the mall's cafeteria. Lydia frowned as Robin stepped up onto a table, slowly surveying their surroundings.

"A trip to China sounds nice..." Robin mumbled, tapping the pencil rapidly against the pad. "There!" She pointed up at the Chinese restaurant Imperial Panda. "If you tread lightly..."

Lydia blinked cluelessly. "Robin, babe, what am I looking at?"

"Kaufman shoes," Robin said, glancing back down at the code.

"Eh?"

"When blue meets yellow in the West..."

Lydia stepped onto the table beside her and looked down at the notepad again. Gradually, she started to piece together the visual links with the code. China = Chinese restaurant. Tread = Shoes. Holy shit. It all made sense.

Robin whacked her on the shoulder, eyes wide with excitement. "It's a time!" She exclaimed, directing Lydia's attention to the large clock. "When blue meets yellow in the west!"

It took a moment for it to sink in, but a small smile started to grow on Lydia's face. The clock had a blue big hand and a yellow little hand. Wow. Robin had just singlehandedly cracked a Russian code. Lydia had quite possibly never been more proud of her.

"Dude, you're, like, a genius."

"I know!"

"Guys! What are you doing?" Steve called out as he and Dustin approached.

Lydia turned to face them with a grin. "Robin just cracked it."

"Cracked what?"

"An egg, idiot, what do you think?" She retorted. God, and Lydia thought she asked stupid questions.

"The code," Robin confirmed, holding up the notepad. "We cracked the code."

—

Later that evening, and against her better judgement, something Lydia hadn't been entirely convinced she possessed until now, she lay on the roof of Starcourt mall in the pouring rain.

The general excitement of the day had worn off when Lydia realised they were actually serious about figuring out what the Russians were up to. Not that she wasn't curious too, but Lydia wasn't sure she was dedicated enough to sit out during torrential rain to secretly watch potentially suspicious people do potentially sneaky things.

"Can you see anything?"

Dustin, who was peering over the ledge with a pair of binoculars, responded, "They're with that whistling guy, ten o'clock." He pointed towards a man surrounded with Imperial Panda and Kaufman shoe boxes.

"What do you think's in there?" Steve questioned. Lydia briefly pulled back the hood of her rain jacket so that her vision was less obscured, but she could still barely see shit.

"Guns, bombs?" Dustin suggested.

"Chemical weapons?" Robin added.

"Maybe it's actual Chinese food," Lydia said. "Like, maybe they're just super hungry." Robin and Steve turned their heads and gave her the exact same disappointed look. Lydia concluded they were spending far too much time together. "What?"

"Whatever it is, they're armed to the teeth," Dustin told them.

"Great," Steve muttered, wiping the dripping rainwater from his eyes. "That's great."

Lydia crawled further to the edge in attempt to get a closer look. One of the men outside the warehouse swiped a keycard to open a set of double doors.

"Hey, what's in there?"

"It's just more boxes," Dustin informed them. Boring.

Steve reached his hand out to take the binoculars. "Let me check it out."

Dustin tightened his grip and tugged them back. "No, I'm still looking."

"Let me see it!"

"Hang on!" Dustin hissed. He ripped the binoculars back out of Steve's grasp, accidentally clattering them against a metal pipe. The sound reverberated around them, prompting the four to glance at one another in alarm. "Duck!"

Immediately, a hand yanked at Lydia's lower arm, pulling her down out of sight. She pressed her back against the wall, daring a glance at Steve, who was crouched beside her. He was looking the other way, but his fingers remained wrapped around her wrist.

Lydia sucked in a deep breath, heart pounding. Nobody dared to make a sound. She was frightened to even move a muscle.

Steve ended up being the first to stand, removing his hand once he realised he was still holding onto Lydia like a scaredy cat. Upon his signal, the four of them scrambled back through the door and into the mall. Steve hurriedly led them through darkened the hallways until they reached the safety of Scoops.

Once the door had closed behind them, Lydia collapsed against the wall and tried to catch her breath. That was way too close. But kind of awesome?

"Well, I think we found your Russians."

—

Lydia had figured the lowest point of her day would be getting drenched whilst playing spy on the roof of the mall, but it turned out that the universe had even worse plans in store.

"I live nearest, so you can drop me first then Lydia."

From the backseat of Steve Harrington's car, Lydia opened her mouth to protest Robin's outlandish suggestion, but was silenced by the stern look she received from her best friend.

"Are you sure?" Steve double checked, glancing up at them through the rear view mirror.

"There's actually a shor–"

"We're sure," Robin interrupted. Lydia shot her an incredulous look, to which she shrugged.

She didn't know what the actual fuck Robin was thinking. In fact, she wasn't convinced Robin had many thoughts. But like, Steve and Lydia alone in a moving vehicle together? Any sane person could recognise that was a scenario practically begging for disaster.

"Lyds, what time are you in work tomorrow?" Robin asked her, continuing conversations as normal as if she wasn't just about to leave Lydia stranded in a car with Steve. Unbelievable.

"Afternoon shift," Lydia answered.

Steve scoffed. "Are you ever actually in that place?"

"Oh, so, because you do more shifts that automatically means you're better than me?" Lydia retorted.

"Uh, literally not what I said."

"Uh, it's what you implied."

Steve shook his head. "Whatever."

Lydia folded her arms, turning to Robin, who was rubbing her temples. "See, this–" Lydia gestured a hand between herself and Steve. "This is why I need to be dropped home first."

"I hate to agree with Dolan but–"

"No," Robin shut down. "It's quicker for all of us to drop me first. Plus, if we're gonna be working together to figure out what the Russian's are up to, then you guys need to learn how to play nice together." 

"This is me playing nice," Lydia insisted.

"Well, I think you could both benefit from trying harder," Robin responded firmly. Lydia looked over and gave her the harshest glare she could possibly muster.

For the rest of the drive, the atmosphere in the car was tense, to say the least. It didn't seem to bother Robin, who was idly watching out the window. Meanwhile, Steve was gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles were going white and Lydia was debating jumping out of the car at the next set of lights and running home.

Robin leaned forwards to give Steve directions as familiar brick buildings came into view. Lydia had made the journey more than enough times over the years to know the route off by heart.

Steve turned the corner into the street and slowly rolled up outside Robin's house. It was a small place, semi-detached, two bedrooms, but it was practically Lydia's second home.

"Thanks, Steve," Robin smiled, opening the car door.

Steve nodded. "See you tomorrow."

Lydia scooted across the backseats, stretching her leg out so Robin couldn't close the door.

Robin hovered by the side of the car, leaning over. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Walking you to the front door," Lydia replied, as if it were obvious. She pushed her foot against Robin's thigh, prompting her to move aside.

Robin frowned, stepping backwards. "Why?"

"You know, in case of..." Lydia paused, trying to think. "Axe murderers."

"Axe murderers?" Robin pulled a face. "You watch way too many horror movies."

Lydia huffed as she climbed out of the car. Robin waved at Steve before the two girls started walking along the narrow dirt path.

Lydia's arm brushed against Robin's. She leaned closer and lowered her voice. "I just want you to know that I will never, ever, forgive you for this."

"It makes more sense to drop me first," Robin insisted. "I don't know why you're so upset."

"Because you're leaving me alone in a car with Harrington!" Lydia hissed.

"He's not that bad!" She defended. "You two might get along."

"Oh, please," Lydia scoffed. "Hell will freeze over before we get along."

Robin hopped up the small step to her front door and grinned at her. "I'll hold you to that." She slotted her key in the lock and turned it, looking over her shoulder. "See you tomorrow."

"I hope you have a terrible nights sleep."

"Have fun," Robin teased as Lydia traipsed back to the car. "Love you!" When Lydia didn't respond, she called after her again. "You better say it back! You'll regret it if the axe murder gets me!"

Lydia turned around, held up both middle fingers and smiled sarcastically. "Love you, asshole."

Robin chuckled, taking a step over the threshold. She waved to them one last time before disappearing inside.

Lydia got into the passenger side and was met with a disgruntled Steve. "Why aren't you getting in the back?"

She leaned forwards, opening up the glovebox, where Steve kept his tapes. "So I can choose the music."

Steve batted her hands away. "Yeah, right. You're not touching those."

"Why?"

"Because they're mine."

"Is it because you have bad music taste?" Lydia asked. She could imagine that being true.

"I have great music taste," he argued.

"I'll be the judge of that."

Steve sighed in defeat, shifting the gearstick into reverse and backing out.

Ten minutes. It was only ten minutes. And if Lydia broke it down, she only had to get through one set of five minutes and then another, which was slightly more feasible.

To occupy herself, Lydia began to sift through his tapes. Cutting Crew, The Police, Madonna?

She looked up and smirked. "What?" Steve asked, briefly taking his eyes off the road.

"Like a virgin," Lydia sang, fanning her face with the tape. "Touched for the very first ti–"

Steve snatched it out her hands and tossed it back into the glovebox. "I told you to leave those alone." Lydia giggled, ignoring him completely and picking up another. "Oh my God, what did I just say?!"

"Look, would you rather talk or fill the silence with music?" Lydia asked. Steve went quiet. "Exactly." She glanced down, turning one of the cassettes over. "Hey, I didn't know you liked Duran Duran?"

"I like...lots of music," Steve responded.

"No INXS though," Lydia noted. "Or Tears For Fears. Jesus, how uncultured are you?"

"Music is subjective," Steve pointed out.

Lydia gasped. "You've got You Spin Me Round!" She exclaimed. "See, Harrington, you're already going up in my estimations. This is one of my favourite songs."

"Lucky me," he said dryly.

Lydia placed the tape in the stereo and fiddled with the volume dial. The synth sounds of Dead or Alive blared out of the speakers.

The instrumental filled the silence as they drove down the empty road. Steve spared the occasional glance at Lydia as she bopped her head from side to side. Her attention drifted to him, catching his eyes momentarily.

Lydia grinned, shimmying her shoulders. She picked up one of the other tapes from her lap and held it to her mouth as a microphone. "And I, I get to know your name–"

Steve shook his head, looking away. "Oh, please don't."

"Well if I," she continued, his annoyance only spurring her on. "Could trace your private number, baby."

Steve groaned. "I am so gonna kill Robin."

"All I know is that to me, you look like you're lots of fun, open up your lovin' arms, I want some, want some–" Lydia caught sight of his disgruntled expression and laughed. "You know you wanna join in."

"I definitely do not," Steve assured her.

"Come on, chorus coming up," Lydia encouraged. "Let's go, Harrington!" She drummed her fingers on the dashboard. "Watch out here I come! You spin me right 'round baby, right 'round, like a record baby, right 'round, 'round, 'round–"

Lydia thrust the cassette underneath Steve's chin. He released an exasperated breath, reluctantly joining in with a dull tone. "You spin me right 'round baby, right 'round."

She cheered, bringing the tape back towards her. "Like a record baby, right 'round, 'round, 'round!"

When the song ended, Lydia was out of breath and her cheeks were flushed pink. More worryingly, she felt like she was actually...enjoying herself? No, that couldn't be right.

"All right, my turn," Steve announced, glancing at the pile of tapes in her lap. Lydia opened her mouth to protest but he cut her off. "My car, my turn, Dolan."

"Fine," she relented. He reached over, picked one of the cassettes up and handed it to her.

Lydia turned it over, reading the front. "Human League...Okay, I'll admit. Not bad."

She ejected the first tape and replaced it, pressing the play button. Lydia cracked a small smile as she watched Steve nod along to the beat, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

"You were working as a waitress in a cocktail bar, when I met you–" He sang loudly and completely out of tune. Lydia burst out laughing. "I picked you up, I shook you up and turned you around...turned you into something new. Now five years later on– oh fuck, I forgot the words, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah–"

"But don't forget it's me who put you where you are now," Lydia set him back on course.

"Yes, Dolan!"

"And I can put you back down too," she finished, grinning at him.

Steve turned the volume up. "Woo!"

Lydia swayed her shoulders. "Don't. Don't you want me?" They continued together. "You know I can't believe it when I hear that you won't see me." Steve turned to face her as they sang at each other. "Don't. Don't you want me? You know I don't believe you when you say that you don't need me–"

"It's much too late to find," Lydia carried on. "When you think you've changed your mind–"

"– you better change it back or we will both be sorry!" Steve shouted.

"Don't you want me, baby?" They sang at the top of their lungs. "Don't you want me, ohhhhhh!" Lydia had her hands in the air, tapping the roof of the car. Steve was rocking forwards, hands drumming against the wheel. "Don't you want me, baby? Don't you want me, ohhhhh–

"Oh, shit you missed the turning!" Lydia called, pointing out the window.

"Fuck," Steve glanced up into the mirror, applying the breaks to slow them down. Lydia turned down the music so that he could concentrate. He double checked the mirrors again before telling her to, "hold on."

"Steve. Steve. Do not do a u-turn–" Lydia was cut off as he did exactly that, taking up both lanes. She gripped onto the seat as the car whirled around and then set itself back on course.

"See? No harm done."

Lydia sat back in her seat, breathing heavily. She turned her head to look at him, unable to stop the smile spreading on her face. He looked over at her, both of them bursting into laughter.

"Okay, okay, okay, we need to, like, not tell anybody about tonight," Lydia decided. "Especially Robin."

"Agreed."

The music played faintly in the background as Steve indicated and turned down her road. Otherwise, they were both quiet. Lydia was taking a moment to process what had actually just happened. She was also considering a question that would possibly keep her up all night – would Steve Harrington actually make a decent karaoke partner?

"Unlucky number thirteen, right?" Steve asked, car rolling to a stop outside her driveway.

"That's me." Lydia un-clicked her seatbelt. "Thanks for the ride."

"Sure," Steve responded. She opened the passenger side door and started to get out. "Hang on," he started, pushing his own door open. "I'll walk you in. You know, just in case any axe murders are lurking."

Lydia disguised a smile.

They walked alongside one another past her driveway. Lydia could see the living room light was still on, which meant her mom was awake. She sincerely hoped that Sarah was not seeing her approaching the house with a boy since she would never hear the end of it.

Lydia stopped outside the front door, placing her hands in her jacket pockets. "Well, I think I'm good here. Thanks again for the lift."

"Yeah, no, great, anytime." Steve nodded. "I'll, uh, see you around."

He'd barely made it one step when the door was suddenly pulled open, almost causing Lydia, who had an arm leant against it, to fall inside. "Jesus, mom!"

"Why are you so late?" Sarah asked sternly, looking from her daughter and then to Steve, who loitered awkwardly. Her expression immediately changed. "Oh, hello."

Fucking typical.

"Uh, hi." Steve smiled, scratching the back of his neck. "I don't know if you remember but I'm, uh, I'm Steve. Steve Harrington." He offered out his hand. Sarah smiled and shook it. Lydia wanted to die. "Totally my fault Lydia's late. She was helping me and Robin with uh...something."

Lydia turned to her mom. "Yeah, it's totally his fault."

"Thank you for bringing her home," Sarah said.

"No problem," Steve stepped backwards, nodding at Lydia. "I'll see you around."

A hint of a smile crept on her face. "Yeah, see you around."

Steve headed back to his car. Lydia squeezed past her mom to get inside. The woman watched Steve for a few seconds longer before shutting the door behind them.

Lydia rested an arm against the bannister as she kicked off her shoes, looking back up to find her mother grinning at her. "What?" 

"He seems like a nice boy."

Lydia threw her head back and groaned. "Mom."

"What? I'm just saying."

"Well, don't," Lydia countered, walking into the kitchen. "You remember who he is, right? Steve Harrington. The asshole who put chewing gum in my hair."

"Oh, that was a long time ago," Sarah waved it off. "And like I told you back then, boys only do–"

"Those things to get a girls attention," Lydia finished, rolling her eyes. "Yes, it's a very harmful myth that contributes to the patriotic, mother."

"Patriarchy," Sarah corrected.

Lydia threw her hands up in exasperation. "Same thing!"

Sarah followed her into the kitchen. "You seem a little flushed, sweetheart," she noted, eyebrows raised. "Anything to do with that boy?"

Lydia opened the fridge. "Gross, no, why would you even think that?"

"You may forget, but I was young once too," Sarah reminded.

"Oh, I am so not having this conversation."

Problem was, her mom was right. Steve Harrington had left her flustered.

A/N

They are everything to me actually.

Sarah already #1 Steve & Lydia shipper.