"Stiles, can you come here?"

"Yes Derek."

Stiles forced himself not to sigh, working for Derek was exhausting and it had only been three days since he started. Derek had given an impression of being laid back and easy to work for, during Stiles' interview. Whilst Derek hadn't been rude or mean, he definitely appeared to be giving Stiles the cold shoulder. He was demanding and worse still he was vague, it seemed like he was actively trying to make Stiles hate his job. If that was the case, he'd very nearly succeeded, Stiles forced himself to remember his future prospects 'a year working for Hale Publishing and you can work for any publishing house in the country'. Unfortunately he coupled that recollection with the memory of Derek leaning on a desk, tension in his arms and the perfect curve of his firm, beefy ass, 'Damn It'! Stiles slid his hand into his trouser pocket and forced his erection into submission as he made the short walk to Derek's office.

"Stiles! I need you to get the coffee order for the editors meeting, this after."

"OK, no problem."

"Then could you make a lunch reservation for 4 at Smith and Wollensky. Pick up Alpha. I saw a leather jacket I liked, in a store on one of the numbered streets, get it for me. Make a dinner reservation for 2 at the Atlantic Grill. RSVP to the natural history museum benefit, the Michael Kors launch party and the LaCroix season preview. Get the brakes checked on my Camaro and leave my Lambourghini in for detailing. Phone Meade at BOYZ magazine and hang up on him, when he answers. Confirm the Tavern on the Green for the new issue launch party, then wrap the corporate gifts for this month. That's all."

"Of course. Will there be anything else?"

"Yes, tell Isaac to inform Lydia, that I've signed off on the models for the 'Death of A Fashion Guru' feature.

So the problem was Derek could issue orders, without breaking a sweat, but he was layered in vague, he just couldn't provide information that make might actually make it possible to carry out said orders. The reservations and RSVPs could be handled immediately, along with confirming the Tavern on the Green booking. He had no idea what the editor's coffee order consisted of, but could check with Allison. The cars were a relatively simple task, but time consuming since driving in New York is just about the stupidest activity you could undertake.

The challenge was Alpha, who or what was an Alpha and where was he, she or it. Also the leather jacket, a store on a numbered street and how on earth could he possibly know which jacket Derek was talking about. Isaac was also going to be a fun exchange, he'd been born with a bitch face and a bitch attitude, he ran off to Lydia expecting her to become the new Editor-in-Chief, she didn't and now Isaac was pissed off that Stiles had his job. Also it was just ridiculous that Stiles had been dragged into Derek's feud with Mr Meade, could Derek really not call him and hang up himself.

Stiles took care of all the requests that required a phone first, he even called Meade and hung-up on him, feeling suitably guilty afterwards. He never met Daniel Meade, but he was pretty sure he didn't deserve to be on the receiving end of such petty behaviour. He decided to speak to Isaac about the models, before he left the office and get the inevitable hissy fit out of the way. He'd never liked Isaac much, Isaac had stolen his best friend and this situation with the job was only making matters more strained and tense between them. Stiles headed to Lydia Martin's outer office bracing himself for Isaac's vitriol.

"Isaac, Derek says he's signed off on the models for 'Death of A Fashion Guru', could you please inform Lydia?"

"Of course, I'll do whatever the usurper and his little minion want." Isaac spoke in an obviously fake British accent, that he thought gave him credibility in an industry where first impressions count.

"Isaac, we're at work. Can we please just tolerate each here? Then we can hate each other on our free time."

"Sorry minion you got the job, now your stuck dealing with the office politics. Also white shirt with your skin tone, are auditioning for a re-make of Casper?"

"Isaac the British Consulate phoned, they're seriously considering arresting you for that accent. You know crimes against the spoken word."

Isaac was going to say something, when Stiles' mobile phone rang. Stiles' shushed Isaac by extending his arm and raising his index finger. He knew he was going to pay for his impressive one-up-manship, Isaac would now prevent Stiles from seeing Scott all week, by threatening to withhold sex. Whilst there may not be a girl in gay relationships, Isaac was definitely the girl in his and Scott's relationship. Stiles walked out of Lydia's outer office and answered his phone it was of course Derek, probably with more vague demands.

"This is Stiles."

"Stiles I need you to pick up the photographs and new issue mock-ups from the printer on 3rd." Derek said, then he hung up.

Stiles rushed to the elevator bay, a little surprised that Derek had managed to provide a clear and concise details with his newest instructions. In the elevator Stiles contemplated how he was supposed to get to the printers and to Starbucks, for the editors coffee order, before the meeting. Hale Publications provided town-cars, so that was his best bet. He got to the printers and was issued with a giagantic portfolio case of photographs and 7 different mock-ups of COUTURE magazine covers. Now he just had to figure out how to carry all of this whilst carrying 12 assorted coffees and assorted pastries, cakes and wraps from Starbucks.

By carrying the mock-ups under one arm, he'd been able to drape the photographic portfolio over his shoulder, like a messenger bag, leaving his hands free to carry paper bags with the pastries etc. While he stacked the 3 coffee trays precariously on top of each other, in his other hand. It wasn't a great solution, but it meant that he could get work related stuff out of the way and then be free to take care of Derek's personal errands. He'd have to put in some overtime to get the corporate gifts wrapped, maybe he could take them home with him. He was pretty sure Derek sneered at him, when he walked into the conference room.

"I've confirmed the launch party booking at Tavern on the Green. I made your lunch and dinner reservations, it was Smith and Wollensky's and the Atlantic Grill, wasn't it? I also RSVPed the events you requested and I didn't speak to Mr Meade. Isaac knows you've signed off on the models, but I can't be certain he's actually informed Lydia."

Stiles put the coffee on the conference table and slid the mock-ups in front of Derek, then he hunted down a platter and arranged the food while the editor's started to enter the room. With his hands finally free Stiles removed the heavy photographic portfolio from his shoulders and leant it against Derek's chair, hunkering down to speak to Derek as he did so. Derek stared intensely at Stiles, who shifted his gaze downward as he felt the blush rise in his cheeks. Stiles was sure his blush deepened, as breaking eye contact with Derek meant he was now staring at Derek's crotch.

"I'll be out of the office to do your personal errands and I'd also like ask if it's alright to take the corporate gifts home with me, incase I don't finish wrapping them before I finish for the day."

"Fine!" Derek said gruffly.


OK, Derek conceded he wasn't great at being a horrible boss. Stiles had successfully carried out almost all work related tasks, he'd isssued, and was willing to give up his free time to get everything done. He was going to have to do more than issue a difficult to remember list of vague instructions, if he really wanted to force Stiles into quitting. Maybe Lydia gave some sort of seminar on being a horrible boss. Jackson could potentially be a great help to him, but Jackson just had a talent for appearing to be a total douchebag, after 30 minutes or so in Jackson's company most people realised that their first impression was wrong. If he needed to start actively being mean to Stiles, he needed to tread with care. Stiles could easy prevent anybody else from taking the job, one angry blog post or youtube rant video could make Derek the most hated potential boss in New York. It was things like this, that made it easy for Derek to believe his father hated him, he'd never pull a stunt like this on Alex, Dylan, Laura or Madison.


Stiles was stuck in traffic, in an eye catching sleek black Camaro being tailed by a silver Mercedes town-car. When traffic finally started moving again Stiles was actually able to cover some distance and gain some speed, at this point Stiles became aware of why Derek wanted the brakes checked. The lights turned red and Stiles pumped the Camaro's brakes, nothing happened Stiles continued through the intersection and narrowly avoided being hit by several other cars. The road ahead was clear enough to coast to a stop. Stiles gripped the steering wheel and started to cry, his mother had died in a car crash, he'd been in the car with her and it was all to easy to imagine how another car could have slammed into him and how he could be injured or dying, maybe even just plain dead.

"Officer." Stiles greeted as he stepped out of the musclecar.

"Sir, you disrupted traffic and almost caused an accident. I'm going to have to arrest you."

"Oh, officer please no. The brakes failed, I'd never do something like that intentionally.

"Well." the police officer sounded unsure.

"Could you just give me a ticket, please Officer." Stiles ran a finger flirtatiously, suggestively over his lips as he the policeman's nametag, "Officer Doug."

"Well I guess, you could avoid what happened and you've been crying. I guess the event really shock you." the policeman replied placated.

The officer handed Stiles a ticket. Stiles smiled it was a little ironic that he'd had to flirt his way into a ticket, when he'd been flirting his way out of tickets since he was 16. He called a tow truck and waited in the car until it arrived, then he went back to Derek's to pick up the Lambourghini, grateful for the fact the he avoided further traffic incidents. He called Derek's Polish housekeeper and was able to understand her broken English, enough at least to learn that Alpha was Derek's dog and she was at the Deaton Animal Clinic. Well picking up a dog and getting back to Derek's townhouse couldn't be that taxing, could it?

Stiles walked into the Animal Clinic and informed the receptionist he was here to collect Alpha Hale, didn't that just sound ridiculous? The receptionist looked at Stiles for a second and led him back to the recovery area, a gorgeous grey and white Utonagan bounded across the room and pounced on Stiles knocking him to the floor. Stiles breathed in sharply and tried not to panic or scream out, as the Utonagan stood over him teeth bared and growling. The receptionist and an older, black man were able to quickly get the dog under control.

"Are you sure your here for Alpha?" the black man asked in a deep soothing voice.

"Yes, I'm Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale's new PA and he asked me to pick up Alpha. It was hard enough to find out that Alpha was a dog and where to pick him up from."

"Her, Alpha is female."

"Well I don't know, this is the first time I've ever met her and it's safe to say I wasn't well received."

The vet, Alan Deaton, accepted Stiles' story and was kind enough to muzzle Alpha, so Stiles could get her back to Derek's in relative safety. After Alpha was dropped off Stiles climbed into the town-car and headed back to the office, using the internet to locate leather stockists on the numberered streets. He was able to arrange for the only one he found to bring their all their stock to the office and allow a busy Derek Hake to pick out the jacket he had spotted, on the condition that they got a free half-page ad in COUTURE magazine, if Derek was happy with their service and the jacket. It had been a really shit day and all Stiles' wanted was the comfort of his cosy bed, he wouldn't be hitting clubs or bars tonight. He just wanted this day to be over.