Welcome to Pack House, San Francisco's number one Cabaret and Burlesque show. Your host, owner, and piano player extraordinaire is Mr. Derek Hale, but he's asked me to give you the rundown of the staff and performers.

The Pack House Cabaret and Burlesque Club's staff keep it ready to serve. Our bar is staffed by a handful of revolving bartenders and cocktail waitresses overseen by our bar manager Laura and our front of house manager Cora. You'll meet Kira at the door and be kept safe by our trusted security Jordan and Braeden.

Our band is lead by guitarist Allison Argents, with Vernon Boyd on the drums, Liam Dunbar on the saxophone, Mason Hewitt on the trumpet, Matt Daehler on the trombone, and Heather Jones on the bass guitar.

On stage the dance ensemble includes: Erica Reyes, Hayden Romero, Malia Tate, Brett Talbot, Theo Raeken, Danny Mahealani, Isaac Lahey, and the twins Ethan and Aiden Carver.

And taking center stage: Lydia Martin and Jackson Whittemore.

Now you've seen what we have to offer, you willing to take the plunge?

"Alright guys…"

"Derek!"

"Right, sorry Cora," Derek said with a sigh. "Alright people, tonight was great. The show went smoothly and we finally have a full band, thank you Liam for bringing us Mason. I have a few notes on the show but nothing drastic. So can Lydia and Jackson, Allison, and the twins all stay behind. Everyone else is good to go."

A few quick goodbyes, a note to the twins to stop switching places ("Yes Ethan I can tell the difference." "No Aiden, I don't care that you think you can do it better." "No you aren't Aiden, your Ethan. I know because that stupid tattoo that Danny made you get."), and one overly grateful college dropout showing his appreciation for a job ("Seriously, I can work all the time. Like ALL THE TIME") and Derek was ready for the headache that was his talented star couple.

"So which one of you wants to tell me what's going on?" he said as he settled behind his desk, shuffling a few bills he didn't want to look at out of the way.

When no one spoke after a few moments Derek looked up at the three people in his office. Allison, gorgeous, talented, Disney princess meets jazz guitar playing Allison, was hiding an amused smile by biting her lip and looking around Derek's office like it was the most interesting place she had ever been… the same office she was in every day. Jackson had his arms crossed; his muscles tense, as he stared at his singing partner turned girlfriend turned wife. Lydia was the only one who seemed confused, but Derek knew better than that. She was the smartest person he knew and an amazing singer on top of it all, and he hated it when she played clueless.

"Derek, I have no idea what you are talking about…" She finally said as she sank onto the couch in the corner of his office.

"Right, so can you explain to me why you missed your cue on 'I won't say I'm in love'?" Derek said with a small grin.

"I did not miss my.."

"Actually you did," Allison interrupted. "Not by much, but you had to scrap a few steps and you know it."

Lydia shot Allison a betrayed look, which was counter with a roll of the eyes. Jackson's smirk was cut short by Derek.

"Don't go thinking I didn't notice you skipping a chorus in 'Run Away with Me'. It's a good thing Allison is so good at controlling the band or you'd have really screwed the show." Derek caught each of the couple's eyes in turn and asked again, "Tell me what's going on?"

Lydia sighed "Fine, but it's no big deal."

Jackson gave her a shocked look "Well, it's kind of a big deal."

"As I was saying, it's not a big deal. Jackson and I have decided to start a family and I was ovulating so it was time to try." Lydia said this in a casual tone that made it seem like she was discussing a grocery list, not trying to have a kid and getting it on backstage of his club. "We'll try to schedule our attempts better in the future."

Derek didn't say anything for a minute and then looked at Allison who busted out laughing as soon as they made eye contact. With an exasperated sigh Derek let his head fall into his hands.

"So Jackson cut a song short and you were late getting on stage, because you were banging backstage? Of course you were, because everyone here has sex back stage."

"Seriously, if I had a dollar for every time I've walked in on Danny and Ethan or Erica and Boyd …" Allison said with a chuckle.

"Look Derek, we're sorry. It won't happen again… hopefully." Jackson said with a shrug.

"I hate you both, you know that right? If you didn't feel the seats every night I'd kick you both out," Derek's threat was met with amused looks and eye rolls all around.

"Alright, get out of here. I'll see y'all tomorrow."

As the three young performers filed out, Derek just shook his head. This was his life apparently.

Scott was not in a good mood, which Stiles totally understood. I mean, yeah the guy had a mid-term in a few days in one of his gross dissection classes (seriously, who thinks it's cool to dissect a pig and learn it's muscle's names? Apparently Stiles' best friend) and maybe he was supposed to work at the vet clinic in the morning (who picks up a shift at 7am on a Sunday morning? Once again, apparently Scott)… but neither of those are reasons to be mad at Stiles. They had made plans weeks ago to go out tonight to celebrate Stiles turning in the first part of the senior thesis.

Stiles had been invited to a bar he'd never heard of for a show a classmate of his was in. Erica, who he had a frenemies meets partner-in-crime relationship had slipped him a flyer to somewhere called Pack House and told him she'd comp him tickets if he'd come. He'd negotiated for two free drinks each for Scott and him for giving up their night of drunkenness at their normal bar (just because it has cheap drinks, and dirty bathrooms, and a shady clientele, and an Uber won't pick you up from there doesn't mean it's a dive bar).

Erica's one requirement was that she got approve their outfits for the evening, apparently the club had a strict dress code and she didn't want her tickets and drinks to go to waste on them not being able to get in. Stiles had agreed, expecting her to tell them to wear jeans and a clean shirt, but what she had in mind was… well, it was on a whole other level. When Erica had arrived with two garment bags over his shoulder he had been surprised. Apparently she had raided the cast's wardrobes to find them appropriate attire, guessing at sizes and doing a pretty good job at it.

Stiles was surprised but please with the final results. Dark, slim fit slacks had been paired with a emerald green shirt (apparently the color brought out his eyes), a charcoal vest and black jacket layered over the shirt and black dress shoes that were polished enough to reflect Stiles' astonished face. She had gelled his normally floppy hair into a something that looked effortless and flawless and then sprayed some cologne on his neck. Scott stood nearby, still pouting, wearing a fitted blue suit and white shirt, his own hair gelled and slicked back. Once they were dressed, she'd threatened both boys not to mess up the clothes before they got to the club or she would "rip their throats out with her teeth". Stiles wouldn't put it past her.

It had been two hours and a few pre-show drinks at home, and now the boys were stepping out of the Uber and onto the curb outside the club.

"Wow… this is nice" mutter Scott as they both stared up at the club. It was a large building that looked more like a theater than a bar. The sign read "Performing tonight: The Siren of San Francisco" and a picture of a beautiful strawberry-blond haired women with bright green eyes. There was already a line outside and Scott moved to join the end. Stiles grabbed his shoulder.

"Wait, Erica said just talk to security and they'd let us skip."

"Well then talk to security, because I'm not. She looks scary as hell." Scott said as he waved his hand towards the fierce looking black woman standing at the front of the line. She was currently arguing with a group of college guys wearing shorts, jeans, and an assortment of graphic tees, polos, and button downs. Stiles approached her slowly.

"…I don't think you know who I am." One of the frat bros said.

"And I don't particularly care," the woman replied. "The Pack House has strict dress code of pants, button down shirt, and a jacket for all gentlemen. Unfortunately you and your friends are not in compliance so we will not be able to let you in."

"Look you uptight bitch, I…" before he had time to finish the sentence, the woman had him pinned to the ground, her heel on his back. Another bouncer, this one a tall, brown haired man, stepped between them and the guy's friends.

"I'm in a good mood tonight, so I'm going to let you go with an apology and not call the cops on you." The woman was smiling, her black clothes barely wrinkled.

"I'm not apologizing to anyone."The guy shrieked. Stiles just shook his head, this wasn't going to end well.

"I think you are." The woman twisted the guy's hand making him cry out again.

"Braeden, you know we aren't supposed to hurt the guests," the other bouncer said, although from his tone Stiles doubted he meant it.

"Ugh, fine." The woman, Stiles thought the man called her Braeden, released the floored college student and gave him a light kick to the ass when he started to get up. "You boys hurry along. If I see you again tonight, I won't let my friend stop me."

The boys scattered around Stiles and Scott as they moved towards the door.

The male bouncer looked both of them over once before nodding to the line. "Sorry guys, no matter how well dressed you are, you still got to wait in line with everyone else."

"Yeah, um sorry. Erica actually told us to talk to someone at the door?" Stiles said nervously.

"The man's expression changed quickly and he extended his hand. "So you're the two Erica told us to watch out for."

"I guess we are," Stiles said with a smile. He indicated toward the scurrying figures turning the corner. "You guys get douche bags like that in here a lot?"

The man chuckled "Not that much, and never more than once. Kids who think we serve Coors Light by the bucket and Jagger shots."

Stiles made a face "Ugh, you'd think people would have realized what good alcohol is by the time they're in college. I'm more a Sapphire and Tonic man myself."

Jordan's smile widened "I'm Jordan. Any drinker of Gin and friend of Erica's is a friend of mine."

Stiles and Scott shook his hand, introduced themselves, and followed him inside. Braeden gave them each a nod before returning to the line. Jordan led them to a ticket booth where a pretty Asian girl sat.

"Kira, these are Erica's friends."

The girl smiles sweetly at each "Hey guys, glad you could join us. Erica gave me some drink tickets for each of you so it looks like your lucky day!" She stamped each their hands and handed them two drink tickets each.

"Kira honey, can you give them a couple extra tickets each? This one drinks Gin!" Jordan patted Stiles on the back enthusiastically.

Kira let out a burst of laughter, "Of course you would find the only other Gin drinker in this place." She pulled out a couple more drink tickets. "Jordan is the only one who works here who can drink that pine water. You better be careful, he may fall in love with you."

"Wouldn't be the first time alcohol has led to hot men falling in love with me," Stiles said with a laugh. "If you have a break, we can compare Gins later."

Jordan nodded with a laugh and moved back towards the door. Kira waved the boys off as more costumers came in and the two took a look at the place. Velvet curtains covered a decent sized stage and a band was tuning up nearby. Small tables dotted the club, which was about three quarters full. Stiles was glad they had listened to Erica about the clothes, because everyone else was dressed as well or better than them. Stiles elbowed Scott who was finally smiling and motioned to the bar. This was going to be a very good night.