Chapter 4

Soul mate counters were not monogamy based spiritually devices. Very early on in the study of the aura-sphere, scientists and theorists and astrologers all noticed the way the lights came back on after the death of a loved one. This meant, obviously, that one person's soul was not linked to just one other person's soul. While the initial soul mate was special and absolute, it was entirely possible to find love with a secondary love interest.

Whether that second person was an old friend, a new coworker, someone you bumped into in a fast food restaurant – the point was that it was entirely possible to fall in love without the requirement of being first time soul mates.

While the more conservative people worried about this knowledge giving freedom for soul mate couples to cheat on one another, that was really only part of the possibilities that started being discussed. While having potential secondary soul mates did cause some relationship tension between couples, the identifiable rate of adultery in soul mate couples was less than ten percent. The more interesting point was in polyamory.

The question posed was this: If your soul has more than one soul it matches up with, then those multiple other souls must also match up. So what's to stop the three or more of you from living perfectly happy, cohabitating lives?

Derek had personally never had to face this question. He was not a polyamorous person, and while he knew no polyamorous people, he also saw no flaw in the logic of that base question. Despite having no issues with polyamory, Derek didn't see it for himself. He wanted to find one person to dedicate himself to.

And he hoped to find that person during the first week of the concert tour. Sure the first concert hadn't been very promising – what with Stiles and Emily – and yeah the outdoor concert hadn't provided him any potential mates either, but this next bit? Even as antisocial as he was, Derek couldn't possibly not meet new people at this next event.

A party.

Not just any party. It was a backers party. Not only would Stiles and his management team be there, but so would other performers and sponsors and promoters. Derek and Laura were invited – as well as Laura's plus one, Duke – to represent Hale Securities and perhaps win over new clientele.

So while Derek didn't like making small talk and being chatty, he knew very well how to impress people when the time called for it, and he could fake a polite conversation just fine. Plus he'd have Laura on his side, so what could go wrong?

The answer was actually Stiles, which really confused Derek beyond anything the singer had already done.

Derek was in a tuxedo for the black tie event, but it appeared the dress code was flexible for the wealthy and famous. Bono, for instance, showed up in a pale peach cowboy hat, and while he was otherwise wearing all black, it was no suit and tie. Stiles was similar. He wore tight black jeans, a snug fit black undershirt and a black leather jacket. Watching him run around hugging people and smiling and laughing and kneeling down to greet someone's kid was…. Well Derek downed two glasses of champagne before Laura caught him in the act and told the wait staff not to provide him any further drinks.

"What is wrong with you?" she scolded afterward and slapped him on the shoulder. "We're here on business."

"I know. I don't know what got in to me," Derek apologized and rubbed his hands together.

He shouldn't even be noticing Stiles. The siblings were here to scope out future assignments, not focusing on the one they already had. There were other units of Hale Securities guarding the event, but those did not include Laura or Derek Hale. And even without business in the way, Derek really shouldn't be noticing Stiles anyway. The brat was barely an adult and while Derek wasn't an old man, there was almost ten years between them in age. Not to mention they didn't get along… unless they cut conversations in half.

"Oh, but he's so attractive, isn't he?" Laura swooned, and Derek did his best not to physically react.

It sounded like she was referring to his thoughts, but when Derek followed her gaze he found she was not looking at Stiles Stilinski. She was looking at the man who'd just walked in – the very famous John Stilinski.

"Sure, if you like older guys," Duke remarked on her other side, and smirked down at her. He was about a foot taller, and Laura often remarked that it was one of the things she loved about him.

"Oh you know I'm just window shopping. I have no money to go to market. I spent all of it on you," Laura said, and it was quite possibly the cheesiest thing Derek had ever heard her say. But it worked for Duke. They were smiling at each other and then kissing and then Derek had to excuse himself to escape.

It probably wouldn't have been as hard to stomach if Duke had been concerned or worried, but he was being flirty. If he was actually concerned with her liking older men then it would be different, but Laura was thirty and Deucalion was forty-two, so her interest in older men was entirely in the man's favor. Their teasing and flirty smiles were going to give him a cavity.

Derek was twenty-eight, and age didn't bother him at all. Let Laura date whoever she wanted. Still, Derek was pretty sure his soul mate would end up being less than twelve years in age difference, and for that he was grateful.

By the snack table, Derek felt safe enough to people watch and find a target client. John Stilinski had spotted his son and the two were exclaiming greetings and hugging and being a general distraction. The elder Stilinski was dressed more appropriate to the style of the party, in a fashionable, if slightly old fashioned, tuxedo.

Stiles was so excited that he forgot he was holding a soda and promptly dropped it as he threw his arms around his father. The can hit the ground standing, but the drink still splattered out and onto both singers' pants. They didn't seem to care though. They just laughed about it.

"They really light up a room, huh?" a female voice asked and Derek turned his face away from the two, looking instead at Melissa McCall.

"You could call it that," he agreed half-assed-ly and she gently slapped his shoulder as she laughed.

"Of course you would be the one to try and pretend," she said. "I've seen you watching them, watching Stiles." Derek felt his shoulders tense, and from Melissa's expression she saw the change. "I'm not here to reprimand you, so you can lose the tension, but I did come to warn you. The Stilinskis are a fantastic family. They're such nice people, and anyone with them for the long run is extremely lucky… but they are hard to get near. Since the death of his wife, Claudia, John's been… I guess you could say distant. They look close now, but a few years ago, Stiles couldn't be in the same room with his father, and… some other things were happening around the same time, things I'm not at liberty to explain."

"Why are you telling me this?" Derek asked, squinting at the happy father-son pair. He couldn't imagine them ever being estranged, not even for a week.

"Because I've watched Stiles push people away for less than the bickering you two do. Oh yeah, I know about it. Stiles told me all about your conversations. And because I don't want you to get excited if he doesn't push you away. We've been burned before." Melissa frowned and crossed her arms, as if she didn't like the topic or having to bring it up. Ultimately, her expression was considering, and Derek felt it was half an apology for her words and half a sign that she trusted him enough to even have said them.

"You don't have to worry, Ms. McCall. I'm just doing my job. I don't intend to get any closer to Stiles than I have to." Professionalism was a matter of pride in the Hale Family… although less so with Talia, so it was interesting that everyone else had picked it up. Talia didn't need professionalism to get people on her side.

"Please. Call me-"

"Melissa?" The voice was excited as well as unsure, and the unique combination drew both of their attentions.

John Stilinski was a few feet away, hesitating on the edge of some invisible barrier around Derek and Melissa… something Derek just noticed no one was broaching. When had they become so alone at the snack table?

Looking back at Melissa, Derek expected her to be giving him a dismissing look, ending their conversation and sending him away, but instead he found her eyes solely on John Stilinski. Her smile kept faltering between varying levels of happy and her hand came up to toy with a necklace hanging there.

"John," she started and then paused to swallow. "It's… Well it's good to see you. Been awhile."

"Yeah. Like, what, four months?" he asked and shuffled forward into their bubble. "How, um, how have you been?"

"Good," Melissa answered too quickly and laughed nervously. "Really, really good. And you? How was your tour in Europe?"

The small talk and goo goo eyes were sending shivers down Derek's spine in equal measure and he excused himself to find a new solitude. First Laura and Duke and then John Stilinski and Melissa McCall- Were those two even soul mates? Derek hadn't checked their wrists, but they'd each already been married once and had children from those previous spouses. But Stiles did call her "Mom" sometimes. How long had they known each other? How well were they acquainted? Did John know his son called her mom?

It seemed to Derek that there were more layers to his current clientele than he'd originally expected, and that was distracting enough that he couldn't properly focus on the other party guests.

And it was also hard to think about new clients or soul mates when Derek couldn't find any peace or quiet.

"You believe in second love, right?" And this time it was Stiles who had sought him out in the crowd. "Cause I really love Ms. McCall, you know? In a mom kind of way. I mean, that should be expected, I guess, since she half-raised me after my real mom died. And Dad loves her too, at least I think he does, but I also worry he's gonna be one of those guys who never looks at anyone after their first soul mate dies. And I just want him to be happy, you know? I think she could make him happy."

"Stiles, how much have you had to drink?" Derek asked and crossed his arms, leaning back against a pole that had waves painted around and up it. So he was sticking to the edges of the event and yet he still couldn't escape. … Well, that was what he wanted, right? To be forced to meet people? To find his soul mate?

"Actually, not a lot. I'm just naturally chatty. Your sour face and my annoying personality just sort of clash too quick for you to really notice." But the half empty glass in his hand argued against him, especially as he downed half of the remaining liquid right then. "Okay, stop trying to break my brain with your disbelieving eyebrows. It's my third one, alright?"

A waiter passed by then, and Stiles gulped down the remainder of his drink like a shot of whiskey and then replaced his glass with one from the waiter's tray.

Before he could get the liquid to his lips, Derek snatched the drink away and handed it back to the waiter. Stiles complained a little too loudly, but a glare from Derek shut him up mid-word.

"Wh-What?" Stiles asked, rolling his shoulders and adjusting his jacket. "It's just a few drinks."

"It's a problem," Derek grunted. "Look, you're dad- I mean, maybe you could get your head out of your ass and stop drinking before it hurts someone around you."

Okay. Stiles and Derek hadn't really gotten along yet, unless you counted that one conversation, but whatever fraction of camaraderie they'd built up, Derek was certain he'd just destroyed it. Because the perfect way to make friends was to remind them of their father's drinking habits.

God, he was such an idiot.

After the death of his wife and beloved soul mate, Claudia, John Stilinski was next in the news when he checked into a rehab for alcoholics. He was out of the music business for three months while he got his life on track, and since leaving with a golden stamp of approval from his sponsor he had reportedly never had a drop to drink. It had been roughly five years.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but Stiles seemed frozen, stunned and having trouble figuring out how he should react.

"Excuse me," a timid, female voice broke their silence and though they both turned to see who it was, Stiles' eyes quickly returned to Derek. The woman speaking was a little older than Derek, with long dark hair and bright red lips. Her skin was pale, and her skirt was a tad too short, her shirt with a v-neck just shallow enough to be tasteful. Her professional look was verging on flirty.

"Can I help you?" Derek asked, regaining his composure. He could be professional. He could. He just seemed to have trouble maintaining that when it involved anyone named Stilinski.

"Yes. Hi. My name is Jennifer Blake. I'm a writer, mostly journalism for Rolling Stones magazine, but my own work as well. Sorry, not important. You're… Derek Hale, right? Of Hale Security?" she asked.

With a nod, Derek took her extended hand and they shook. Despite Stiles Stilinski being less than two feet away from her, Jennifer never looked away from Derek. In fact, she seemed unable to notice anyone else in the room, and her breath came out in a tiny, nervous laugh.

"I'm sorry. I'm just a fan of your family's work, and I'd heard of you, but-… Well this may sound inappropriate, but you're more handsome than the stories give you credit for," she admitted and tucked her hair behind her ear.

Something in Derek's stomach churned and he smiled just a little. "Thank you, Ms. Blake. You look lovely tonight as well."

"Jennifer. I mean, call me Jennifer." Despite the innocence in her tone, the way she bit her lip made Derek think of someone flirting forcefully. The way she stood, not slouching but still somehow smaller than she should be, and the nervous way she kept pushing her hair back – Derek was probably imagining the sexual clues.

"Jennifer," Derek said in agreement. "Sorry, did you have any questions for me?"

While she took a deep breath, the journalist reached out and took up Derek's right hand in her own. At the same moment, as if trying to beat her to it, another hand snapped around Derek's right wrist, over the cuffs that hid his glowing zeroes from view. A startling shock ran through Derek's body and he sucked in a tiny, surprised breath.

Barely a heartbeat later, the second hand was removed as both Jennifer and Derek glanced over at its owner. Stiles flexed his hand and frowned, then he pursed his lips and looked between the other two. His gaze lingered on Derek, but then he settled his eyes on Jennifer.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to interrupt, but I have other people to go say hi too, and didn't want Mr. Hale to worry I'd been kidnapped under his nose or something. It was nice meeting you." The singer skillfully took Jennifer's hand to shake, the one that had been holding Derek's. "Please make sure to return him by midnight, or he might turn into a moldy old pumpkin." And then Stiles turned on his heel and strode away into the crowd. As he passed a waiter, Derek saw him reach for a glass of champagne before reconsidering and turn to accept a soda from a different waiter.

"Awfully protective of you, isn't he?" Jennifer said, rubbing her hands together and staring hard at Stiles' retreating figure.

"If you say so," Derek answered, but she was right.

The relationship between Derek and Stiles was choppy at best. Insults, sass, and banter were common. They didn't get along well or talk about themselves, and the one time Stiles tried, Derek had basically suggested Stiles was on the road to alcoholism for having four glasses of champagne. The whole thing was a horrible train wreck and yet –

And yet Stiles had defended the Hales to his manager so they could keep the job instead of having it handed over to the Argents. And yet Stiles had sought Derek out when avoiding Melissa. And yet he apparently had taken offense to Jennifer interrupting another one of their downward spiral conversations.

"Let's try this again," Jennifer said, smiling and locking gazes with Derek, cutting off the man's thoughts of Stiles. "I was wondering if… if you're not opposed to the idea, if maybe you'd like to have a drink with me sometime."

Eyebrows raised, Derek wondered if he'd misunderstood. Have a drink? Like go out to a bar? With her? Maybe he hadn't been reading the flirting signs wrong.

"I know you're extremely busy with the tour, but I'm doing a story on Stiles and the tour anyway, so you might actually see me around quite a bit, and I'd hate for us to be strangers. So-," and here she paused her quick speech to take a steady breath, "Would you like to?"

The tingling in Derek's body had ceased awhile ago, when Stiles had pulled Jennifer's hand away, but his hand and wrist still prickled. Letting his eyes wander over Jennifer, he knew that she was beautiful. Her curves, her eyes, her smile. She was sweet, if a bit shy, and that was endearing as well. And the tingling when they touched- didn't that mean…

"Sure," he agreed and smiled once more. "I'd like that very much."

Generally, Derek would distance himself from advances like this. He was supposed to be looking for clients, not dates, but his zeroes tugged at his mind. Jennifer could very well be his soul mate. When she spoke to him was the only time Stiles had left his mind in days. That kind of all-encompassing attention had to be a sign, right? And Derek might be a bit dim in relationships, but he wasn't about to pass up on a sign like that.

On the bus ride back to the hotel, the group was joined by Stiles' father. He and Duke discovered they both had an interest in owning boats, but not in actually boating, and somehow that got them discussing plans for dog adoption. Derek pointedly pretended not to overhear them, especially when they hinted at making it a group effort sort of deal. In no way would Derek be part of adopting an entire shelter worth of dogs, and John shouldn't be agreeing either. He was far too busy to care for what sounded like a plan for ten dogs. And anyway, Derek had given up on that dream when he was seven.

The sudden camaraderie between the two was weird for him, although he couldn't pinpoint why. Derek had always liked Deucalion. Once you were able to get past the oddity of his name, he was… well he was probably exactly what the name made you expect. He was old-fashioned and from a wealthy family, but he never looked down on clients. He admired people who aspired to do more with their lives, to touch people with their passions and change the world. All things considered, he was almost too optimistic about people.

When Duke, as they'd taken quickly to calling him, met the children of Talia Hale, he'd been just an interested philanthropist. Talia had been hosting her annual Christmas party to raise money for community programs that helped the homeless and those unable to afford schooling, and Duke had attended to donate. Meeting Laura and having his wrist light up like a Christmas tree was unexpected, but their arms had bumped while both reaching for things at the snack table and then they'd knocked over the platter of deviled eggs in their shock, and he offered to pay for her dry cleaning while she offered to take him out for drinks, and it didn't take long for their laughing to draw the attention of every Hale in the building.

Once upon a time, Derek had been younger and less interested in his numbers on a serious note. He was too caught up in the social idea of your numbers being a mark of your maturity and how long until you were a true man instead of being caught up in the curiosity of who the person was that would supposedly capitalize that manliness. When he met Duke, one of the first questions he'd asked the man was how it felt to find his soul mate when he was in his thirties.

Most people found their mates in their twenties, so hadn't he been embarrassed by the abnormally large number on his wrist? Hadn't people made fun of him? Duke just smiled and told Derek that teenagers were cruel, but it didn't make them right. Since zeroing out, Deucalion had pondered over every possible woman he met, because he knew it would be a woman, and yet Laura had snuck in under the radar and happily surprised him by the table. She'd been everything he'd been looking for but had somehow overlooked. So no, he wasn't upset about how long it took. He was just pleased that it finally had.

Sitting on that bus, rubbing his fingers over his wristband, Derek thought of Jennifer and wondered if his wrist would light up if he pressed it to hers. Would she like that or would she be disappointed? Derek wasn't exactly a social winner. When he tried to be social, he tended to come off as arrogant or rude or both. Would she like that? If she was his soul mate, she'd have to, right?

Stiles was laid out on the couch beside Derek. His feet were barely an inch from being in Derek's lap, and his head was on the tiny couch pillow that matched the one on Derek's other side. When Derek looked over at him, thinking about how Stiles knew all about Derek's grumpy social skills, he saw the singer had headphones in and his eyes closed. With the steady rising of his chest, it was hard to tell if the younger man was asleep or awake.

One arm was raised above his head, dangling off the end of the couch, and the other was resting on his stomach. When Stiles shifted slightly, his arm pulled on his shirt and exposed a sliver of pale skin and a trail of hair disappearing down into the singer's black jeans. In a second shift, Stiles stretched out his legs, simply but effectively claiming Derek as part of his temporary bed.

Honestly, Derek wanted to get mad and push the legs off, sending Stiles sprawling to the floor. But instead, he swallowed the urge and crossed his arms. Stiles seemed more tired than he should be after a simple party, and if it was related to his illness, then Derek didn't want to disturb him before need be.

When he looked around for something to distract him from Stiles' happy trail, he found Melissa glancing up covertly from the book she was reading. Her eyes met Derek's and she smiled and shrugged. Whatever she'd been worried about during the party was gone from her eyes, and the weight on her shoulders seemed lighter.

As she returned to reading, Derek wondered if she looked more relaxed because John was there. Was that what soul mates did for each other? They made each other more relaxed? And why did it have to relate back to soul mates? Derek didn't used to think like this. Before he zeroed out, he would've assumed Melissa's calm persona meant she trusted Derek, but now he was stuck in a loop of trying to tie together the threads from Melissa McCall and John Stilinski, as though seeing how they fit together would help him figure his own life out.

Stiles opened and closed his mouth a few times, making noises like he was thirsty, and rolled onto his side. One of his ear buds fell out and Derek stopped messing with his wrist while he noted the place where Stiles' ear turned into the pale skin of his cheek. His arms dropped to his lap, over Stiles' legs, as he took the time to familiarize himself with the pattern of moles on Stiles' profile.

Melissa knew about Stiles' illness and she didn't seem concerned at all about Stiles being tired. Perhaps it was just concert fatigue. Still Derek found himself worrying and wondering if there was any external proof of the sickness or if it was all internal. Maybe Melissa would tell him one day… or Scott.

Across from him, Laura had nodded off on the table but she groaned then, and he was sure that if she woke up while Stiles was still sprawled out across Derek's lap, she would have a small heart attack and pester him for the rest of the week about it. It was incentive to follow through on his impulse to push Stiles off, but instead he just smiled and imagined all the ways he could taunt her while she questioned him.

It took twenty minutes to get to the hotel from that thought, and somewhere in that time Derek dozed off too, his hands resting on Stiles' knees.

Preview Chapter 5:

Derek has a date with Jennifer Blake, unless it's not a date?, and with Laura's iPod. A surprise opening act joins the tour, for better or worse, and Derek finds out he likes caramel in more than just his coffee… which makes breathing surprisingly difficult.