First of all, I'm not a total psycho.

In the elevator Peter had made a vow that this would continue, that he would see Lydia again. The truth was, he saw her more often than she knew. While Derek was busy trying to corral his children, playing nursemaid to them and pretending the Argents weren't a threat, Peter was working his own defenses in the town.

And watching Lydia when he had the chance.

So it was he would find himself watching her while she waited by the field after lacrosse practice, or as she wandered the mall, gathering bags as she went along.

That night he'd chosen was cool, though the days hadn't grown that cold yet. He knew that eventually she'd let out that silly little dog, and that was what he waited for.

With a line of scented candles along the edge of a small table. On it was a bottle of Dom in a silver bucket of ice, two glasses waiting. He knew her parents would be out for a few hours more. They did leave her alone often. Heartbreaking, really, but he would use it to his advantage.

So it was he stood there, leaning against the side of the house, almost out of view, and waiting.