She doesn't like the idea of Barry going out there alone. Some part of her thinks that maybe if she goes, too, then the men climbing out of the car could be charmed into not, you know, taking their crap. But she stays when he mentions that he used to be a cop and hopes that the sort of just means he was still in the police academy or something. She realizes belatedly that it probably means forensics, given his field here with her, and she really doubts he's got a whole lot of experience with that gun.
She's holding very still, watching everything unfold via the side and rear-view mirrors and listening through the cracked window. Lydia's careful not to move too much as she eases her own gun out of her pocket and carefully wedges it in the seat just out of sight but not too far out of reach.
To cry or not to cry, she wonders. Tears can be a powerful intimidation tool, she knows, but then again...it could make things even worse. They're telling Barry to come get her, but she decides not to make him turn his back to them to retrieve her and instead, she takes a deep breath and fiddles with the zipper on the jumpsuit, dragging it down just a little. Show a little bit of cleavage but don't go crazy; make herself look like a girly girl who can't — or won't — be any trouble.
Lydia pushes the truck door open and hops down, coming up beside Barry and swallowing thickly as she looks back at the men. Without really thinking about it, her hand gropes at the air between the two of them to look for Barry's hand before settling at her side again and closing into a fist. Breathe normally, stay calm; don't let them hear your heartbeat, she thinks and, for a second, that makes no sense to her, but then she remembers the things in the glitch; the were-creatures who could tell when you were scared. "What can we do for you, boys?" she asks, taking full advantage of the natural semi-sexy rasp in her voice as she looks back at them through wide, green eyes with a smile that falls just short of smug because she's aiming for it but doesn't actually feel it.
no subject
She's holding very still, watching everything unfold via the side and rear-view mirrors and listening through the cracked window. Lydia's careful not to move too much as she eases her own gun out of her pocket and carefully wedges it in the seat just out of sight but not too far out of reach.
To cry or not to cry, she wonders. Tears can be a powerful intimidation tool, she knows, but then again...it could make things even worse. They're telling Barry to come get her, but she decides not to make him turn his back to them to retrieve her and instead, she takes a deep breath and fiddles with the zipper on the jumpsuit, dragging it down just a little. Show a little bit of cleavage but don't go crazy; make herself look like a girly girl who can't — or won't — be any trouble.
Lydia pushes the truck door open and hops down, coming up beside Barry and swallowing thickly as she looks back at the men. Without really thinking about it, her hand gropes at the air between the two of them to look for Barry's hand before settling at her side again and closing into a fist. Breathe normally, stay calm; don't let them hear your heartbeat, she thinks and, for a second, that makes no sense to her, but then she remembers the things in the glitch; the were-creatures who could tell when you were scared. "What can we do for you, boys?" she asks, taking full advantage of the natural semi-sexy rasp in her voice as she looks back at them through wide, green eyes with a smile that falls just short of smug because she's aiming for it but doesn't actually feel it.