Rated T. A/B/O Dynamics. Drama/Humor.

Alpha's Prerogative

Being an alpha sucked.

Like, massively!

Why in the hell did anyone want to be an alpha? Popko thought it was awesome. Why? Because Popko is an idiot.

Jackson could smell everything. Everything!

Do you know how disgusting a public bathroom is? A public High School bathroom? Yeah. There's a lot of smells. Bad ones.

And he could smell everyone.

Everyone.

Every day. Every second. Everywhere!

God. Popko did not understand.

Neither did his mom. Which was, honestly, a lot more annoying.

"Are you going to send me to stay with Joey every weekend?" Jackson had a headache.

It was, for once, not Ramona induced.

Jackson pulled his head up from the counter. The blessedly cold counter. "I'm not gonna, like, snap or anything."

His mom continued to futz around the kitchen. She was making him snacks for the trip. Again.

This was the eighth weekend he was spending with Joey since he'd presented as an alpha. Do you know how many weeks it had been since said presentation.

Nine.

He'd spent the first week entirely with Joey in Vegas.
Because being an alpha sucked and there weren't very many of them.

Apparently his dad had been a lucky recessive alpha, which meant no one else on the Fuller side BUT HIS DAD was an alpha.

Lucky was not the word Jackson would use.

Michelle was apparently an alpha. And his grandmother. But there hadn't been a male alpha on the Katsopolosis side before and betas for the Tanners as far back as anyone could tell.

Assumptions had been made. Assumptions had been wrong.

And now Jackson was spending every weekend learning 'how to be an alpha' from Uncle Joey.

Uncle Joey had taught him everything he knew within an hour.

Time. Discipline. A good coping mechanism.

Jackson figured sarcasm worked for that last one.

"I'm just not comfortable with you and Ramona in the house together yet."

Ah, the kicker.

What was the one weakness to the supremely powerful alpha?

An omega.

Which Ramona was.

Did he mention being an alpha sucked?

"Last I heard omegas only go into heat once a year," Jackson rolled his eyes. They'd had this conversation before.

Three times.

"And even when our pheremones peaked, nothing happened."

His mom put her hands on the counter and raised an eyebrow at him. Apparently she still didn't believe that.

Even though it was true!

Popko and his jealousy could go jump off a cliff.

"Could I at least go hang out with Popko?"

The eyebrows intensified.

That was a no.

Jackson groaned, tossing his head back, "I'll go pack."

He grumbled all the way upstairs, adding in a few sulky stair kicks because they made him feel better.

Plus, his mom packed extra cookies when she felt guilty. Which she should, spending the weekend with Joey meant spending the weekend with his family.

The Gladstone Four. All weekend.

Not cool.

There was one upside to the whole alpha thing.

He got his own room.

Tommy had officially become Max's roommate the wek he'd been in Vegas so Jackson got his own room again. Next to Ramona's rather than across.

A difference only in the minds of their beta mothers. Here in reality his lovely alpha senses were aware of Ramona's presence from three blocks away all the way to his door.

Which was where she was thirty minutes later when he was pretending to pack. She stood there, with her new disgusting scent suppressant clogging up his nose, for ten minutes.

"Either come in or go away already!" Jackson called out at her, lounging on his bed. His phone above him, thumbs cursing out Popko for all his beta-ness.

Ramona cleared her throat as she walked in. She wore her typical 'cool girl' scowl, but her eyes were looking at the wall.

"What do you want?" Jackson scooched back to lean against his headboard. Popko was sending him stats about alpha musculature.

Photographically.

Ew.

Ramona fidgeted slightly before placing her hands on her hips and moving her eyes to his face, "I wanted to apologize."

Jackson snorted.

"Hey!" Ramona stomped her foot, "I'm being sincere here, you could at least fake some respect."

Jackson rolled his eyes, "What are you even apologizing for?" Her cheeks turned bright red. She turned her head to look at his posters.

Oh.

He felt his cheeks warm up a bit too. He still had some super-sensory memories of Ramona's body pressed against his.

Which he was fairly certain were getting more explicit as time went on.

"You don't have to apologize." Jackson looked across the room to his computer. His still-packed-from-last-weekend bag sat on the desk beside it.

Ramona scoffed, "I'm the one who didn't realize what was happening. Omegas have a long build up before…" She cleared her throat, "Anyway. You get what I'm saying."

"Nothing happened," Jackson shrugged. It was true. Other than some overly familiar cuddling. "And I could have put the pieces together earlier too if I'd been paying attention."

The bed dipped next to him.

Jackson turned his head to find Ramona sitting on his bed next to him, derisive look on her face. It was the closest they'd been since…the incident.

"How many omegas do you actually know?" Ramona was arching an eyebrow at him.

"Apparently 7," Jackson responded automatically. He smirked, "There are two, beside you, within a ten mile radius right now."

Ramona blinked, "You can tell that?"

"Would you like to know how many betas?" Jackson watched her eyes go wide with a sense of satisfaction. He didn't actually know how many betas. Their scents blended together more and there were generally too many to count.

But. You know. Alpha's prerogitive.

"I meant before," she elbowed him between the ribs. He gasped out a breath. She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, "I've always known there was a chance I'd be an omega. I should have been paying more attention."

Jackson just shrugged this time. Much safer.

"That's pretty cool that you can smell all that, " Ramona looked at, smile big, "Public restrooms must be SO fun."

Jackson groaned and sunk down on his bed, "Don't remind me!" Her laughed tugged at his instincts a bit.

"My sense of smell is better, but really I'd have to be right on top of you to distinguish your phenotype."

Jackson did not imagine her on top of him.

Much.

He should probably ask Joey why she tugged more at his instincts than…well, everyone. Every time Popko so much as mentioned Ramona he had the urge to strangle his best friend. Not to mention the dudes at school.

He'd thought it was because of The Incident, but two months on it wasn't fading so Jackson was fairly positive it wasn't.

"Except you, of course," Ramona chuckled, and Jackson's eyes snapped to hers. They shimmered.

There was a twist in his gut.

"I can smell you for like a mile," Ramona huffed out a laugh, "Even with the suppressant."

The twist lurched.

"You're like," Ramona tilted her head, thinking, "A constant scent."

Ok. Maybe the weekends away were a good idea.

"Papa says it's because you're an alpha," Ramona shrugged, "And an omega's nose is specifically meant to seek them out."

That…

Explained so much.

Probably too much. Especially about her parents' relationship. But Jackson was NOT thinking about that.

At all.

"Are omegas easier for you to smell?" Ramona looked at him, eyes wide and curious.

He swallowed. The answer was…complicated. Technically they weren't any easier to smell than betas, but there were fewer of them so it was easier to differentiate. Alphas too actually.

"Sorta?" Jackson squinted, eyes trained on his ceiling. Looking at Ramona felt…dangerous at the moment. "I think it's just easier because there are so many betas."

"Hmm," Ramona puckered her lips as she thought. She turned her head slightly, tossing her hair. Her scent wafter towards him in a big wave.

The sour scent was strongest - like a lime squeezed directly onto his tongue kind of strong. It pushed that naggy little desire to shove Ramona down on his bed…down. Her spicy floral perfume was easy to distinguish as well.

He kind of wanted to ask what its name was, just so he knew what to call it in his head. But that would call attention to the whole parsing her scent thing.

Not high in his to do list.

Her natural musk was just distinguishable and it was by far Jackson's favorite. It didn't make him nauseous like the sour scent or dizzy like the sweet one - which was, thankfully, absent. And it was just vaguely pleasant in a way the florals just, weren't.

"Jackson?"

And Ramona was talking to him again.

"What?" He watched her roll her eyes. Obviously he'd tuned her out for a minute. Oh well.

She shuffled herself on the bed, bringing her legs underneath her, "Has anyone…said anything?" He raised an eyebrow. She unnecessarily tucked a lock of hair behind her ear again, "At school?"

"About…" Jackson gestured for her to continue. She just blushed. "About you?" She nodded. Still blushing. "Being an omega?"

The answer was yes. But only so far as Popko filling him in on the school gossip when he got back. Lola had laid down the law before Ramona had returned to school.

"Not really."

She breathed out a sigh of relief. Her hand pushing through her hair. He swallowed hard when her scent hit him this time. Full frontal attack, full weapons array.

"Could you," he choked out, "not do that." He closed his eyes and sunk down lower on his bed, "It's kind of…distracting."

Ramona's cheeks went cherry red. He was officially looking up at her from his pillow. His own scent encompassing and cocooning him.

"Sorry," she sat up straighter and Jackson waved her off.

It was dissipating, "It's cool." It wasn't. But it also wasn't Ramona's fault and he kinda didn't want to be a dick.

He was totally blaming it on the weird instincts.

In either case, she still basically fled his room. Which he wasn't dissappointed about.

He wasn't.

His cell vibrated and he looked down to see yet another text from Popko.

'Did you know alphas can scent mark?!'

Oh.

God, being an alpha sucked.

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