Chapter Text
"Come on, give me what I want!"
The fact that Stiles' mind supplied him with 'What I really, really want', did not in any way improve his mood as he glared at the computer. Darn Spice Girls. That was not what he wanted going round in his head all day, and he quickly put on his favourite playlist, blasting Lupine Frenzy into his headphones, as a distraction and a focus.
He'd been chasing down leads on Lupine Frenzy's court case for weeks now, and he wouldn't say that he was obsessed... oh, who was he kidding, he was obsessed. He could own it like a boss! Yes, he, Stiles Stilinski, 28 year old alpha, was obsessed by the mystery surrounding the band's lead singer.
Lupine Frenzy had been big, one of those bands that emerged out of nowhere with something new, something different, something that stuck a middle finger to the generic charts. They'd been growing bigger until suddenly they cancelled their next show, their future gigs, and none of the slim pickings of interviews in the aftermath gave anything but the barest of information around the fact that their alpha lead singer, the one who had been the blazing heart of the band, was no longer part of it and they wouldn't be seeking a new one. Lupine Frenzy were done.
That was over six years ago, and despite everyone who had searched, despite all the media interest and devastated fans, no one had ever found out the truth. His name had never been known by the public, having gone only as 'the Left Hand'. They had never seen his face, because he'd always had a mask on as part of his persona, one that had had never slipped. There was no news, and Stiles had managed to dig enough up about the finances of the record company to find out that while proceeds from record sales and royalties went to the other band members, the ones for the lead singer went instead into a trust fund and it looked like it hadn't been touched in all that time. Stiles' wallet was not thanking him, because he'd ended up having to pay someone to find that out for him under the table, but he'd had to know.
But there had been nothing since then. No future releases, no new albums, no sightings, no hints of where the lead singer was, what he'd been doing, or where he'd gone. It sounded like he was still alive, from the nuance of something one of the other band said in an interview once, but nothing else.
At least until recently when the trust fund had started a legal motion to stop the unauthorised use of Lupine Frenzy's songs in a couple of adverts.
At his desk, he startled as the sudden ringing cut through the music on his headphones.
"Hey daddio, what's up?"
"Hi. Tara wanted me to ask you if you were coming to the fundraiser next week."
Another fundraiser. He'd lost track of what cause it was for this time, but it didn't change his answer, as his dad likely knew only too well. He still asked though, every time; less to do with wanting to get together again so soon after the last time as it was at keeping track of what Stiles was doing with his life, and what excuse he'd give.
"No can do. I can't take time off work right now."
That wouldn't be a surprise either, since it was pretty much the answer he always gave. It wasn't a good plan to go back so soon after the last visit considering how they tended to rub wrong with each other these days, and had ever since Stiles had presented. It was one thing to have two alphas living in the same house, that was never going to go smoothly, but it was quite another for one of them to be the sheriff of the county with what felt like every citizen of the darn town tattling to the sheriff about every tiny thing Stiles said or did.
Every time he went back there it felt suffocating.
"Shouldn't you be at work right now? I thought you were on the early shift at that place in the Mall."
"No, that contract finished five days ago. No more super early starts for me for a while!" Still, looking at the clock on his desktop, he blinked and then quickly put his computer to sleep. "But good of you to remind me, because I've got to get going. Lost track of time."
He scrambled up, grabbing his jacket from the back of the sofa and was out the door before his dad had even replied, possibly listening with amusement to the sudden movement that was pretty well-trod in terms of Stiles having forgotten he had an appointment.
"What's with the rush? Late again are you?"
"What? No! I'm going to totally be on time if I leave now. Which I am, so there's not a problem. The conference centre isn't that far away from my apartment."
"What sort of conference is it? Anything interesting?"
"Everything is interesting if done right, but it isn't a conference this time. It's an omega auction."
And damn, he'd walked right into that one, hadn't he? He could have kicked himself if he wasn't in the middle of trying to unlock his jeep so he could actually get there for the start of his shift.
"You're making that much to bid? That's great news! The pitter patter of little feet are in my future then!"
Stiles could have groaned, and he did as he got into the driver's seat. He didn't have the energy to deal with more of his dad's single-minded desire for grandkids despite the fact that Stiles had stated, repeatedly, that he wasn't looking to make him any.
"I'm not there to bid, Dad. I'm there as security. For my job. Look, I gotta go or I'm going to be late."
After farewells that were somewhat rushed on his part, and not only because he really did need to get to the job, he sighed and started up Roscoe. The music started up immediately, and he shuffled through it until one of the Synthwave tracks started. He liked using them for going to his job. It made him feel like he was part of a gritty film noir or something, neon splashes of colour through the bleak streets. He could totally have been a peacekeeper in a place like that, and rocked a fedora too.
----==I==----
"Cutting it fine, Stiles. Here's your earpiece. The guys from Loren's company are covering the west wing of rooms, we're on the east. We're doing a regular sweep, but there's already been some minor trouble earlier with an omega in the green room. If that continues we'll have to change to partially static, but for the moment just do a regular sweep."
"Toilets?"
"They're being covered by the centre staff, but they'll let us know if we're needed."
"Right-o."
He liked working the omega auctions. Don't get him wrong, he didn't like that they lived in a society where the auctions existed as standard practice; a place for the rich or notable to put their marriageable omegas up for closed auction to find them a mate. But at least the omegas were the ones to choose. They had the right to turn down any and all alphas that came along, and Stiles, well, the job let him assuage the alpha instinct to protect.
Working the auctions wasn't the same as working security at a Mall, or doing bodyguard work for some asshole that had more money than sense. It felt important to his instincts, even when logically he knew there was generally far less need for security at places like this, not with the sheer number of security being hired at least. One or two handsy alphas didn't require two full teams, but the rich got what the rich wanted, and he liked the jobs like this, and so for the next four days he got to indulge in his instincts and hope that it would help see him through until the next one he could get a job at.
He might have fudged the truth with his dad just a little bit, because while technically it was true that his contract at the Mall had ended, it had only ended when he'd not renewed it. The fact that it coincided with the auction was just good timing, that was all. Or no, that was not all. Truthfully it had been too long since he'd managed to get onto a security detail at an auction like this. A whole year in fact, and he'd been feeling more on-edge because of that. There was always something about being accepted around omegas and trusted as their security that helped settle him. Stupid instincts. He would ask his boss for a longer contract once this job was done, because if nothing else he'd be riding the calm of the auction for at least a month afterwards, and he'd maybe spent a bit too much money getting that financial information on Lupine Frenzy's trust fund.
The job at an omega auction worked on his instincts flawlessly every time though. Once he'd done the initial walk through of the rooms, familiarising himself with them and the layout of where the omegas all were, some of the tension, the bone-deep jitters had already started to ease. The omegas had been there since early morning, and the ambience of their gathered pheromones left him feeling loose-limbed and calm. It was another reason why security never needed to be this high, because it worked on all alphas in roughly the same way for the most part.
Still, a lot of the alphas coming to auctions like this were complete dickwads, in his personal and humble opinion. Most came in with a sort of pretentious attitude that wasn't helped by the way they looked down on everyone they came across. He figured that maybe having too much money caused you to end up with a personality disorder or something, considering how many of the same sort he saw in this place. But then, they came from their piles of money to basically buy themselves a bride; an echo of old traditions that hadn't quite relinquished their hold in the modern day, and their entitlement was tangible.
But for now, everyone was being very well behaved, and he got to relax in the conference rooms, ignored by alphas and omegas alike. Accepted as background. He preferred it that way, because it made it all the more fun when he got to remind the alphas that he did, in fact, exist to throw them out of the auction like a naughty puppy if they acted up.
There may well have been more than one reason he hadn't made it into the FBI or police force.