Some Strings Attached

An Alpha's Job

When your phone buzzes, you look at the clock in the corner of your screen and realize it's nearly two hours past your normal end of the work day. It surprises you, but also explains your aching back and blurry eyes. Saving your work, you shut everything down and then straighten with a low groan as the cramped muscles in your back stretch. You love your job as a data analyst for the FBI, but hunching over your desk for hours on end is a bad habit of yours.

Grabbing your purse, you pick up your phone as you stand. There is a twinge of pain in your abdomen and a wave of dizziness washes over you. Closing your eyes, you wait for it to pass while focusing on breathing slowly in and out. In...one, two, three. Out...one, two, three. In...one, two, three. Out...one, two, three.

Once it finally passes, you lean against your desk and open up an email to your boss. Looks like your pre-heat stage has officially ended. After sending in your time off request, you slip your phone into your pocket and make your way out of the building.

There's someone in the elevator when it stops at your floor, and for a moment you hesitate. William gives you a small smile, his hand darting out to stop the doors from closing. "You coming in?"

You hesitate for a moment longer. While William has always been friendly, he's also an alpha and the idea of being alone in a small, enclosed space, with an alpha when your heat is beginning makes you jittery. Concern clouds his pale eyes. "Is something wrong?"

This is stupid. You shake your head and step in, making sure to keep on the opposite side of the car. As the door shuts, he asks, "Going to the lobby?"

"Yes."

Since the button for the lobby is already lit up, his hand drops away from the panel as he shoots you another smile. You stare intently at the numbers counting down and grip your purse strap so tightly, your knuckles are white. From the corner of your eye, you see William give you another concerned look.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asks as the elevator dings.

"Yes!" your voice squeaks, and you flush in embarrassment and hurry out of the car before the doors are even fully open. Only when you've slid behind the wheel of your car do you let out the breath you'd been half holding. As if that would have provided you some kind of protection from an alpha intent on mating.

But it's fine now, you assure yourself, white knuckling the steering wheel through another wave of pain as you ease into traffic. In thirty or so minutes, you'll be safe and secure in your apartment and can ride out your heat in peace. You hear the buzz of your phone and tell yourself to check it when you get home.

Driving in the city can be dangerous, and you aren't going to risk crashing to check a text. The only time you use the car is when you're near heat. In case of a situation just like this, when your heat hits when your still out and about. Public transportation is not a safe option for an omega in heat after all.

By the time you get home, you can feel the fever starting, your skin hot to the touch and sweat beading on your forehead. The moment your door is locked behind you, you're stripping out of clothes that suddenly feel like sandpaper and staggering towards your bedroom, and your nest.

~*~*~

Sharp stabbing pain jolts you out of sleep a couple of hours later. With a small whimper, you roll over and curl into a little ball, your nose brushing over the soft fabric of Neil's purple sweatshirt. You bury your nose into it, a sense of calm rolling over you as you inhale his scent. There's something you were supposed to do, but your head feels too cloudy for you to figure out what it was.

Thump. You sit up in a panic at the soft sound coming from the living room, gripping Neil's sweatshirt like it can protect you. "Hello?" you call out, then immediately scold yourself for the stupidity of that. What you need to do is call the police.