Chapter Text
It's funny how these things happened. One day, you be at war with a great enemy. Someone whose threaten everything that your strawberry-blonde Goddess (more like lord and master) had spent the last three years creating. Two companies spent the last two years fighting over who gets to plan the greatest event that a small town like Beacon Hills has to offer.
The Chase.
A little annual thing where alphas chased omegas all over the woods for a chance to mate with them. You been in before, wasn't so great when after ten, no, five minutes of running, you realized that all the alphas were just passing you by. And then you spent the rest of the day, cold and bored, wishing that phones were allowed so at least you could have played Angry Birds or Fruit Ninja. Maybe even take in a movie on the Netflix app.
Any~way.
If any of the two top event planning companies get to plan and set up for what was considered the greatest Event of the Spring, they will be set for rest of Beacon Hill's primo events. For example, both Halloween and Christmas' festivals. Not counting being the first choice for the big money gigs, like the Whittemore's grand parties that they seem to have every month.
What was the point of this thought passage again?
Oh yeah, one day you can be on the front lines of a rival war. The next, you be crushing on the nephew of your enemy. Lydia already had very warned Danny, sweet and loveable Danny, in front of everyone that dating one of her sworn enemy's employees, one of his own generals to be exact will only bring pain and misery for Danny himself. As in she will bust him right back to lowly go-for till the end of the world, or when she has forgiven him. You know whatever come first.
It's not like you meant it to happen. You start blaming everyone for it. Lydia for thinking that hiring the nephew's catering company would be a great first strike. Hale for existing period. Your own father for picking this town to live and raise his only son in. Derek Hale for being so pretty to look and his voice so...unf...
Your own biology for wanting such a strong and broody Alpha to fuck you up against the wall of his kitchen till kingdom come.
This was not what you expected life to be. At. All.
(*)(*)(*)
It all started with the phone ringing, piercing right into his favorite of dreams. Lydia Martin finally realizing his great talents made Stiles the only suitable heir of the Eloquent Events and made him take over the whole business as she retired to the Caribbean or Paris for the rest of her adult life. Stiles becoming the Omega of the Year, and being the wank-fantasy of all alphas. Able to make sure that his dear old dad can have a really comfortable life and able to watch the games of his favorite sports team from the owner's box instead on the television. And get the best doctors that money could buy to care for him as well.
It was right where Stiles was using Peter Hale as his personal carpet on his way to accept the award for greatest and genius business man ever when the music turned from fanfare to the shrill tune of a banshee wail. It was funny when he was drunk that one time with Scott when he assigned it to be Lydia's ringtone. Right now, not so much. He woke up with a start and fumbled around blindly for his phone. He gave a yelp when he fell out of bed, reaching for the stupid thing on his desk.
He smashed his thumb to answer, greeting with 'Yes, my Queen whose beauty rivaled that of the fairest rose.' and pouting at the sting on his chin and knee from falling on the floor.
“We have an early meeting that starts in....dun dun...twenty minutes from now. You not here five minutes before it starts, you will be answering phones and grabbing coffee and lunch for the rest of us till July.” Lydia so kindly spoken before hanging up on him.
Well, fuck. What time was it anyway? He clicked on the lock screen of his phone to check the time. SHIT! It wasn't even seven yet! Augh, fuck his life hard. Stiles quickly and by that he moved at the speed of light, getting a cold shower, not bothering with a shave, barely fitting in brushing his teeth and tripped over the last steps on the way down the stairs as he tried to fix up his tie and tucking in his shirt.
He groaned as the coffee making was taking its sweet time bubbling up and pouring into his waiting mug as he chowed down on one chocolate-flavored pop tart with another package safely tucked into the first pocket of his messenger bag. He doubled checked that he had his work laptop, phone, day planner and address book before grabbing the sugar jug, filling up the silver travel mug with enough sugar to comatose a full grown bull whale. And don't forget the cream. Then he jogged out of the house, barely slamming the front door shut, and got into his beloved jeep.
With a prayer to the Gods for the old gal to start up first thing, he was racing down the road. Hopefully the traffic police were napping in their cruisers and not able to stop him for going a hundred miles per second. Or at least called his dad about his ability to do the Indy 500 under a minute. Brakes squeaked as he was forced to stop at the red light. He mourned at the traffic lights conspiring against him. Just seem like he was catching them all on the mornings that he can't afford to catch them at all.
He chewed around the Pop-Tart in his mouth, taking it out only to gulped down half of the sugar-flavored coffee. Since all things that causes stains do tend to spill onto his best work suits and shirts, he has taken to wearing napkin bids in the morning. It made him look stupid as fucking hell but better that, then arriving with his shirt sticky and wet from spilled coffee. Stiles glared with a glare that would make Lydia Martin so envious at the slow red light and wondered if it was broken. Then he leaned forward, checking first at the left then the right streets. No cars for miles it seem like. Of course not. It was still fucking dark on this cold January morning.
His lips squeezed tightly together and made them squeak in thought. No one was coming from either side. Lydia would and will have his balls cut off and bronzed into paperweights for her desk if he was late. It was a camera-free traffic light. He checked, double-checked then triple-checked before moving his foot from the brake pedal to the gas. The jeep, blessed its soul, barely went past the line before a sleek black camaro almost knocked into its front bumper, going faster then the speed of sound out of no where.
“JERK!” Stiles shouted after it, wishing the car would blow up with a great blast. Then with a cry of happiness as the light finally turned green and he was able to go on his merry way down the road. Death by Camaro clearly forgotten for fate worse then death.
(*)(*)
He was barely in the door before Danny Mahealani grabbed him by the elbow, dragging him to the conference room and yanking his messenger bag from his shoulder and putting his travel mug down on a desk close by.
“You lucky that she's stuck on a phone call or we be holding you down as she looks for a knife.” He hissed in Stile's ears, fixing and smoothing down the powder blue tie and white shirt. Then he yanked off the napkin bid, balling it up and tossing it away. Then the Hawaiian tried to put the fluffy brown hair of his fellow co-worker into shape before sitting him down at the table, laptop at the ready for note-taking. Then he took the empty spot on the right of Lydia's Throne (it was really a tall office chair but might as well be a throne) with his own tablet at the ready.
All eyes turned as Lydia, in all of her perfected glory, clicked and clanked her way in. She stopped to do a quick scanned of who was here and who wasn't. Satisfied with what she saw, she sat down in her mighty throne, flipping back her perfect strawberry-blonde hair before getting on why they all there before dawn.
“As you all well known, The Chase is the first Event of the year, after Valentine's Day of course. And if we get this Event, we have beaten Hale for rest of the year.” Her green eyes gleamed with fire at the name of her sworn enemy. Everyone smartly kept silent but were undoubtedly thinking that they just saw the last of their families and homes and beds this morning. Martin would push them all to the limit to first gain this account and then to the setting up for it. Not counting another gigs that they had already got on their plates. “We have a meeting with the Mayor's planner this morning to start discussions. We don't have it yet but I will be damned if Hale grabbed it from under my nose this year.”
Never mind that as long as Hale been in the Event-Planning business since Stiles and Lydia been in middle-school. From his humble beginnings as wedding planner to the top dog of this type of business. Hale has made it known that he was not above slimy tricks in stealing all of the high paying jobs from other event businesses, Lydia's and Greenberg's being the only ones in town besides his own. Greenberg barely on the radar and mostly specialized in weddings. It was very unheard that an omega, even as cunning and dominating as Hale, to beat an alpha in any field. But Hale was anything but a simple and normal omega.
The man had more marriages then the late and great Elizabeth Taylor but still manages to walk away with more then half then his ex-spouses' money and was still collecting alimony payments from his latest divorce with Deucalion. The Hale family was already one of the richest family in Beacon Hills but now with only three left, thanks to a house fire that killed off the rest of the once great and huge family, Peter Hale made it his mission to keep the Hale Family famous through his business. He was a childless omega so he grooming his niece in being the next...well Peter Hale..since she gradulated from college.
If Stiles wasn't hating Hale purely from loyalty to his Queen, he would be idolizing Hale. Omegas were still considered second-best and no alpha really took one seriously, even in this day and age. But Peter Hale was greatly feared and respect in the community. The fact that he has beaten Lydia, just as respected for being an alpha herself and having born into a wealthy family herself but mostly on her merits as a pure business genius alone. God knows why she was an event-planner and not the next Donald Trump. But hey if it wasn't her hiring omegas like Danny and Stiles, the two of them would have been forced to marry at a young age just to make ends meet. Well Stiles for sure. Danny has enough smarts and suave to be anything that he could put his mind to. Even be the next Peter Hale if he wanted to.
Lydia jumped to her feet as graceful as a gazelle after what seemed like an hour of her talking on about battle plans, her employees rushed to join her. Some not as gracefully as her. Stiles bit down on his tongue as he forgotten to push his chair back from the table before standing up. Give him a break all right, he wasn't even supposed to be alive for another hour.
The Mayor's Planner, an amazon in a light gray pantsuit and her rich brown hair styled into a tight bun on top of her head, walked in with her army of assistants. Lydia smiled warmly in greeting and the two women shook hands as the younger woman led the older to a chair and asked if she wanted anything before they started. The elder declined with a smile of her own before getting right to business.
Stiles hoped for all their sakes that they get this account, cause if they didn't, the rest of the year will be pure fiery Hell for them all just because Lydia Martin once again didn't get what she wanted.
It was best that Lydia Martin get what she wanted. It was better for their sanity.
(*)(*)
It was barely lunch time as the amber-brown eyes began to go cross-eyed and the words on the laptop screen started to get blurry. He groaned as he rubbed his eyes from behind the black frames of his glasses. Lydia, in her great joy, of being closer in gaining the account of her dreams and career, has generously given Stiles the chance to hold a meeting with the Whittmores, right after the one with the Mayor's Planner by the way. The Whittmores has decided to give Lydia a chance to plan their Pre-Chase party. It was the Grandest of all parties and it was two days before the Chase itself.
It was Stiles' chance to shine. After being loyal to her, even before she starting to notice him in high school and then give him a job right after college, she had decided that he was ready for the big leagues.
So now he was reading over his notes from the Whittmore meeting and lining up calls to make. Caterers, decorators, invitations, and where the fuck was he going to find a fire dancers and dear lord why they got their hearts set on snake belly dancers? Rich people are so weird. His cell phone started to vibrate next to his laptop. He snatched it up and hit answer as he laid his elbows on the surface of his desk, cradling his sore head in his hand.
“Dude, you up for getting together for lunch?” His brother from another mother, Scott McCall, spoke from the other end. He sounded a bit bored, maybe it was an extra slow day at Deaton's place where he worked as a vet, second to Deaton of course.
“Nope.” Stiles popped his mouth loudly and rolled his head back against his chair. He swiveled a bit around as he explained that he was chained to the work desk till at least after lunch then he would driving all over town to check out places for the Whittmores. He would be lucky if he even saw his bed that night, he had so much on his plate.
“At least, Lydia has finally acknowledge your greatness. I heard that only most sought after Alphas and Omegas go to that party, even though it was suppose to be for those running in the Chase.” Scott said, happy for his best buddy for getting the big break that he so rightfully deserved.
“Well there is that. Though I think she just wanted to free up her time, just in case that she does get the choice to plan the Chase itself.” Stiles pulled his glasses off and tossed them at his desk, running his hand through the soft brown strands of his hair. Maybe it was time for a trim. Maybe when things slow down enough, he would get his hair cut as well buy a new set of work clothes. If Lydia unchained him long enough.
“Oh speaking of, I was thinking of being a Runner again.” Scott just off-handing said, no doubt prepared for the rant that was surely to come. “I mean we both haven't taken part in the Chase last year and I think this year is our year!” Oh bless his happy go lucky soul. Aww to be young and full of hope.
“Listen, you can run all you want but after the fuck-up from the year before. I have decided to live the life of the forever alone.” Stiles sighed and cracked his neck a few times, tapping his thumb on the hard wood of his desk to an unknown beat. “Maybe I'll get famously rich enough to hire a matchmaker and pick from the rows of the beautiful of alphas. But till then, I'll just happily spend my nights with my TV and computer.”
He groaned as he heard Scott sighed so unhappily from the other end. “Don't be like that, Stiles. Maybe your alpha wasn't there that year. But could very be there this year, waiting for you.” Sometimes, he wondered if his best friend watched Disney movies about cute little omegas being swept of their feet by their strong and handsome alphas in his alone without Stiles time.
Those movies were getting better. Just last year, they finally had a female alpha with a male omega in a movie. It was a hit of course with all the she-alphas that finally gotten their Disney role-model. The male omega though, in Stile's opinion, might as well been a female as feminine-looking as he has been.
Eh, maybe when he was finally ruling the world, he'd get Disney to make an accurate male omega and maybe make him as badass as their omega princesses clearly were.
“Buddy, there's hope for you still. Don't waste your time worrying about me and my so pititful love life. “ Stiles smiled into the phone. “Besides, Lydia would get jealous if there was another alpha in my life.”
Scott shared a similar laugh with his friend but whatever answer he may have for that was lost due to people gathering just outside his door. “Scott, I'll call you back later.” He clicked off his phone, not giving Scott a chance to say good-bye, before standing up and went to check out what had his co-workers up in a tizzy.
He barely was the doorway of his office before he was pushed back by Danny and a short she-alpha while the devil himself, Peter Hale strutted down the hallway towards Lydia's large office at the far end. Muscularly big men, twins and as old as Stiles but no doubt alphas, followed behind like good little guard dogs. Both of them eyed people down as they walked. No doubt asserting their dominance without even speaking.
“I heard that Hale got them in the divorce.” Maggie, the she-alpha whispered as she pressed in close to Danny and Stiles.
“Is that possible?” Stiles whispered back, barely turning his eyes away from the backs of Hale and his twin guard dogs. “To get custody of people like that after divorcing your spouse?” Knowing Hale, it was possible.
“Well clearly.” Danny not so helpfully whispered back. He croon his neck out a bit, starring a bit too much at the rear area of said alphas. One of them, knowing that they were being ogling in such a way, looked over a thick shoulder and starred back at Danny with a lecherous smirked and raunchy wink.
Stiles elbowed the other omega in the side, regretting it as it hurt his poor funny bone. Seriously he was happy that omegas that he knew personally weren't all tiny and fragile looking but Danny could lighten up on the weight-lifting. His poor elbow would be grateful if he did. “Put those eyes away. Lydia not only fired the last person that dated someone from Hale's camp but made it so she could never worked in town and the next town over ever again”
Danny rolled his eyes and pushed his fellow omega back away from his person, and went back to checking out the alpha twins' taut little bums. Mostly the one that had winked at him for starring. “It never hurt just to look. I'm not that stupid to risk her highness's wrath.”
“As long as you know that.” Stiles muttered before biting his lips and quickly and silently followed after the twins. Curiosity was eating him up inside in wanting to know what the hell was Hale doing here in the enemy high quarters. He wasn't the only one but he was unofficially elected to be the one to spied from the door, peering in though the crack between the two doors that marked the entrance to Lydia's office and lair.
Peter Hale was already sitting in the guest chair in front of the stylish desk that belonged to the female alpha with his dogs standing right behind, ready to spring into action at the very moment of their master's signal. Should he give one.
“May I first say congratulations for gaining the Whittmore Account. I can not wait to see what you had in store for them.” Stiles inwardly groaned that he was suppose to give her the notes of the meeting and as well his plans for the party. Lydia remained beautifully unfazed with a bored look on her soft face.
“Thank you for that, Hale.” She smiled not so sweetly from her prime throne, ankles crossed over each other under her chair. Hands folded neatly in her lap. Looking as bit as Alpha Queen as she can be while being blind-sided with a visit from her rival.
Stiles could feel the subtle vibe of Alpha radiating from her tiny being, clearly to prove dominance over the older omega. He saw the slight change in stance with the alpha twins, no doubt answering her challenge for the sake of their boss. It just made Hale chuckled with a husky purr and waved his hand at his boys to stand down.
“But we all know that I will be once again planning the Chase this year. After all I had more experience and since this year, my niece will be a runner for the first time, it only makes sense for my company to be in charge of it.” He rubbed a finger pad over a buffed nail before laying cool blue eyes on the alpha before him.
Lydia didn't bristled at the tone but only titled her head slightly to the side. “Oh just your niece? Not that alpha of your nephew? Its been years since he was a Runner. Oh then if I was not mistaken, and wasn't it because he agreed beforehand to grab that Argent in the Chase that lead to your family's almost ruin.”
Stiles mentally pumped his fist in the air at that burn as Hale growled heatedly. His alpha guards, sensing his displeasure tensed up and looked ready to fight on his behalf. Stiles could see them getting furrier by the minute before Hale snapped at them to calm down.
“Well mistakes are learned from that fiasco as you may learned. And now we have those wonder safeguards in place.” Hale coolly said off hand.
Safeguards being that alpha and omegas Runners spent days and nights isolated from the rest of the community except for the very times that they were allowed out, only if they were tightly guarded and had to be scrubbed down raw after each and every outing. And were allowed to wear clothes provided by those in charge. And on the day of the Chase, just enough for modesty sake. After another scrub down to make sure that artificial scents didn't 'accidentally' get on the Runners.
It was not a fun experience for Stiles when he was a Runner that one time. And it was another factor in his choice in not running. He wasn't even allowed to be near Scott or the other omegas out of fear of their scents being mixed together, confusing the poor alphas.
“Anyway, I'm just visiting and personally wanted to say not to get your pretty little hopes up. After all it would look bad on your part if you do end up planning this little event and you don't even have your own people as Runners.” Oh Hale was going for the throat now as Lydia bristled a bit as the belittling tone in the omega's words. They both stood up but didn't offer their hands in parting as the little improve meeting was drawn to a close.
Hale gave a sugary sweet offer of doing lunch with her in the near future, knowing full well it would never happen. Stiles only had a second to get out of the way before getting a face full of door. He lingered off the side, pretending to leafed through some papers that he found an nearby table. Hale and his dogs didn't give him a glance. One of the twins did gave a parting wink and smile at Danny though as they pass him by.
Stiles shook his head in disapproval at the Hawaiian’s returned smile. Just silently saying it was a bad idea to even think of getting that kind of hot alpha ass. Danny just responded with 'never hurts to think about it' shrugged of his shoulders. Then Lydia cut any more talk as she stomped out of her office and dragged poor Stiles in while calling in the rest of her employees to get in there before she had the coffee machine whisked away for rest of the day.
He gave a little yelp as he was pushed into a chair before manicured hands. He and his co-workers watched as Lydia paced like an angry lioness, muttering out plans on hitting Hale where it hurts and to make sure that she get to plan the Chase event and not that devil weasel.
“Big deal if his niece is going be a Runner. It doesn't automatically put him in charge. Besides he isn't the great example of what a mated pair should be. He had more mates then I have prada purses!” She slammed her hand on her desk, causing those nearest to her, namely Stiles to jump. Then he cowered in fear as she leveled her green eyes upon his common mortal form. “I got it!”
Stiles may or may not gulped at this point.
“Those not mated or about to be mated, will be Runners. And isn't Derek Hale in the catering business?” Stiles wanted to answer firstly that he didn't want to be a Runner. That he was strong independent omega and no alpha was going make him run. Then he remembered who he was going protest to and kept his mouth shut. Someone from off to the right of him said that Derek Hale indeed was a caterer. But why was that so important.
“We snatch him on our payroll, making him look disloyal to Hale. And right before Valentine's day too, so Hale would be forced to get someone else at the last minute. Can't be that many still free or not overbooked yet out there.” Lydia does not slump but she did take on an evil pose in her office chair as she kept running off her plans in sabotaging Hale. “Stiles and Danny, you will go now and do whatever it takes to grab Derek Hale for ourselves. Remember there will be no amount of money too high.” She narrowed her eyes in warning or threatening. Threatening, the poor omega male thought. “Don't let me down.”
Stiles wasn't stupid enough to protest that he already busy with the Whittmore account. He simply nodded with a 'yes, my queen.' before sleeking away to fist grab his messenger bag and phone then met up with Danny at the door.
This was only the beginning of the end for Stiles Stilinski. Maybe he should have become a deputy and worked for his dad, raising through the ranks and becoming sheriff himself. He may had a longer and safer life if he had.