[Years of Lydia totally ignoring his present-giving efforts--even when they're bigger than both of their heads put together--have sort of trained him to deal with easy dismissal, so when she thanks him he feels a warm flush of satisfaction, lips twitching into a smile as he rocks on his heels a little.]

Yeah, it's--no big, you know, just doing what I do.

[Angie, as it turns out, is pretty cute. And maybe not a bad third companion when their usual third companion has been making him feel like complete and total crap lately. Stiles lowers into a squat with one of the biscuits in hand, holding it in his palm for her to sniff.]

Mugs are good. Mugs mean I don't have to pretend to sip when I sort of want to chug. Does she know any tricks?