"Stiles, thank goodness, It's almost four." She said, voice calm yet bright as her head turned to look at the iron clock hanging above the desk. "But still plenty of time to get home." She smiled, brunette hair bouncing in waves about her shoulders as she turned back to meet Stiles smiling face.

He couldn't help it, Allison had these dimples that danced with her cheeks when she smiled, and she always seemed to allure others. Even with out her talent. Stiles called her a siren, for her talent was her voice. Like sweet honey it caressed around you, twinging and spinning and looping inside your head until you'd do anything for her. She could command an Army, Make Statues talk...I miss that.

Thankfully, Allison didn't use her talent all the time, only when she helped me get out of trouble growing up, and although most times no one knew she was doing it, I always felt a bit bad about messing with peoples heads like that. Even asked her if she did it to me when I didn't agree with her, but her face just fell and she shook her head violently, crying and telling me she would never use her Talent on me unless it was life or death.

I hold her to that every day. But still, her voice has a calming tone that always makes me feel better. "Will you be alright by yourself? If anyone comes in you know 'looking for something lost', just call..."

"Yeah, sure," Stiles shrugged it off, hiding the hurt expression that flew across his face briefly. Allison didn't miss it.

"Stiles...I didn't mean."

"I know Al, don't worry about it." Stiles offered a small smile as he moved around her to go sit behind the desk. "I'll be fine, besides, I've handled the shop before, remember? I've never had a client looking lost things. Only weird old people looking for old books or the occasional teen onlooker. Nothing I can't handle Allison, promise. Now go."

Allison smiled at him, although she didn't seem too convinced, he had a point. He'd never had anyone ask for a lost thing, so he should be just fine. Thankfully it only took about 15 minutes or less to drive to the house. "Just don't forget to feed bruiser."She waved at him as she grabbed her keys and bag and left. Jingles following in her path. His eyes side glanced at the little fish aquarium that up against the wall behind the desk.

He gave Bruiser to Allison last year as a birthday gift because she'd always wanted a fish, but with their fluffy black cat Tumbles, she couldn't have one. He already ate her pet bird Petey when she was eleven. However Stiles figured a fish could survive at the shop, they just didn't bring Tumbles to the shop as often anymore, and if they did, Stiles hoped they put something sturdier above the fish tank so he didn't get his paws in there.

Bruiser though, even after a year, the fish had worn Stiles welcome, he was creepy creeper fish. Always staring at him for long periods of time, and when Stiles crossed the room, like he was now. Bruiser just...stared...following him to the end of his tank. "Gah, stop it!" He flailed his hands about before hiding behind a stack of books so he couldn't see him.

There, he sat. Two customers came and went, and it was a quarter till eight, when the bells jingled above the door. Stiles immersed in Pride & Prejudice, didn't even look up when he said "Welcome to Lost & Found books. How may I help you?"

"I'm looking for History of the Emissary." a woman's voice replied, seemingly closer than Stiles anticipated. Looking up he nearly dropped his book. The Owner of said voice was a slim brunette, much like Allison with wavy hair, only parts of her hair were pinned up. She had a soft face, but a sharp nose, not hard to look at. "I know it says you're closing, in about fifteen minutes? I just managed to find you, I drove here from the city." she said sheepishly.

"Uh...Oh, that's a drive." Stiles allowed himself to smile. "I have it in back, one moment." He excused himself. He'd read History of an Emissary before, along with countless other books. Emissaries were known as magical advisers, said to aid in a vas amount of supernatural groups. Mainly Myths, as far as Stiles knew. He already dealt with witches on a daily basis, he didn't think he could handle werewolves and vampires too.

Whatever, he thought as he climbed a ladder and pulled a dusty copy from the shelf and hopping down. He dusted it off with his shirt as he re-entered the front, seeing her eyes trained on the fish tank with an odd look. "your fish is kind of..."

"Creepy? Yeah, get that a lot. Here's the book." Stiles lifted it in her direction. She took it from him with a smile as he rang her up. Once the bills were safely tucked away in the cash box, a silence fell. She seemed to hesitate, a little nervous perhaps, or fidgety, but in any case she seemed like she wished to say something more. "Was there anything else?"

Hesitating a moment, the woman opened her mouth, looked around and then her voice dropped to a quieter tone as she leaned forward. "I heard, you um, you help people...find things..." wait for it. "Lost...things." And there it is. Of all the luck in the world, Stiles jinxed himself today, truly.

"Oh, um, well I don't, I mean we do but I-"

"It's just I was told you do this sort of thing, and I'm willing to pay. It's just, you're my last hope... I received this card from Alan Deaton? He recommended me to you, right here." She looked so hopeful, and Stiles new he should call home, but something nagged at him as he looked down at the card displayed before him.

Ask for A Stilinski. She was looking for Allison. Sometimes it get's confusing, what with them sharing the same initials. Although her true last name was Argent, many knew her by Allison Stilinski. But did this woman know it... "What...exactly were you looking for?" He found himself asking.

Something flashed behind her eyes, something..feral almost, before it trickled away with her innocent enough smile. Even that was a little shaky. Stiles raised his brow slightly but said nothing as she spoke. "Family heirloom," She retrieved something from her purse, unfolding it and setting it on the counter top. "It's just an old clock, but it was lost, years ago."

"How many years are we talking exactly.."

Sheepish look returns. "About a 100?"

Stiles jaw nearly fell to the floor. "A-a hundred? Wow, um...can I, keep the picture? It there someplace I can meet you to talk about this some more next week? I've got to close up..my rides here." He noted Jackson pulling into the parking lot.

"Of course, I'm a professor at NYU, history and ancient civilizations." She smiles. "Please stop on by, here is my number." She jots it down underneath the picture. "I have such a good feeling you'll be able to help me."

"No promises." He mutters to himself as she heads for the door. "I never caught your name!" He realized. She turns, hand on the door.

"Blake. Jennifer Blake...thank you again. Mr. Stilinski."

He nods, watching her leave in a trail of jingling bells, before he turned, fed Bruiser, double checked the til was locked, and grabbed the keys. Locking up before heading over to Jackson's car.

"How was it?" Jackson asked as Stiles climbed in, putting the car in gear and taking off towards home.

"I spent four hours surrounded by books and a creepy fish, how do you think it was?" Stiles shot back, leaning his head on the window as they drove through the darkened streets. He debated telling his family about Ms. Blake. The clock looked oddly familiar, like he'd seen it before. He couldn't remember where, but he knew he'd seen it.

"Well, its not like you could have helped anyone anyway." Jackson said absently.

Perhaps Stiles would keep this to himself. He'd find Ms. Blake's clock. He'd show them he could do it, talent or no talent.