A/N: The song Derek listens to in this chapter is "Gasoline" by Rob Thomas.

Chapter 5

"Oh well, oh well. I guess you got it all worked out so far. You adjust your reason until you see the light from where you are."

Derek sat in his hotel room, notepad in front of him. He had meant to write notes about the people he met at the party, an update for his mother on business and potential clients, but the page was blank. Over his ears was a pair of red headphones attached to an iPod. Not his iPod, but Laura's. So long as it got back in her bag before she noticed it was missing, all would be fine.

"Won't you listen to me? Well I tried so hard to give you what you need, and it burned like gasoline. Oh no."

Stiles' voice drifted through the speakers, almost disinterested in its tone, but also sad. The whole album, actually, was filled with the strange tone. The songs weren't hard-rock angsty or even rage against the system style compositions, and yet Derek got anger and disappointment and sadness out of all the songs.

"It never took a lot to make this hard. Cause you're so off-balance, and I knew all the words to set you off."

Narrowing his eyes, Derek looked down at the track name. This was the fifth song on the album, and he was starting to get concerned. The album title was "Push", like the song Stiles had sung to Derek on stage.

Wait. No.

He hadn't sung it to Derek. It was in the set list before Stiles ever met Laura and Derek Hale, and Stiles had only looked over at Derek during that song because they'd been fighting and the song was about-

"Won't you listen to me? Well I tried so hard to give you what you need, and it burned like gasoline. Burned like gasoline. Oh no. Burned like gasoline."

Was this a break-up album? These songs were about fighting with someone you loved, about things not working out. Derek had thought they were ambiguous, sung for the fans who would go wild with it, but the way they were sung and the wording… these were actual break-up songs, weren't they?

Checking the clock, Derek quickly backed out of the album and clicked on The Fray's album instead. Then he slid the iPod and headset into Laura's suitcase and returned to his seat at the desk. Less than a minute later, Laura strolled inside. Exactly on time, as always.

"Hey," she greeted and presented him with a coffee. "You make that list for mom yet?"

"No. Working on it," Derek said, which wasn't a complete lie. He'd been trying, but he'd also been distracted. "Did you have anyone to write down? Someone I didn't meet?"

"Missy Elliot," Laura said flippantly, which was a joke because Missy Elliot hadn't been at the party. Then Laura dropped down on the bed and leaned forward. "More important, actually, is who you met that I didn't."

"And who's that?" Derek asked, quickly scribbling down the names of everyone he could remember speaking to. He was meant to make a short list for his mom of the people who seemed the most interested, but he was on a time crunch.

With a scoff, Laura shifted to lie down. "Uh, Miss Blake? Stiles told me she was practically eating you with her eyes."

"Stiles?" And now Derek couldn't remember his uncle's first name, much less anyone he met last night.

Smirking, Laura pretty much hummed when she spoke. "Oh yeah. He was in the room when I went down to speak with Melissa. Ranting away to Scott while Melissa and I spoke business. Miss Blake was batting her eyes and leaning into your personal space. Sounds like someone really wanted to get your attention. So… Did you get her number?"

"Yes, actually. I did," Derek said, and hoped that would be the end of it. Laura was always putting her nose in his business, though, so he should have known better.

"Wait, yes?" she asked and sat up again. "And you're going to call her?"

"I texted her this morning. She's covering the concert tomorrow night so I told her we could get lunch before. She accepted. I figured you could handle the prep work for an hour." And Derek pulled his phone from his pocket as he spoke, opening up a message to his mother.

While he remade the list from his notepad, he took note of the distinct silence behind him. Laura was never so quiet about Derek's personal life… or any part of his life, for that matter. After hitting send, he frowned and turned to look at her.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

She was cross legged on the bed, hunched over and pressing her hand to her lips contemplatively. At the question, however, she perked up. "Nope. Nothing. But hey, you know what? I think Stiles was a little jealous of your date. He told me to warn you about people who seem too anxious."

"Considering he's the one who thought I'd need help finding my soul mate, that's surprisingly rude of him. If he has time to be invading my personal life, he should really focus on his own," Derek grunted and then looked over at Laura's bag where the iPod was hiding. "Hey, Laura. Has Stiles ever dated before?"

At first Laura looked like she wanted to say some choice words to him, but then she sighed and tilted her head as she thought. "Nothing the public heard about," she finally determined. "I wouldn't be surprised if he had, though. Why?"

"No reason," Derek said and turned back to the desk, tapping his pencil on his notepad and trying to think about anything or anyone else.

Now that Derek's numbers were so important to him, he started taking notice of other people's wrists. When he'd met Stiles, he'd thought the singer was a bit odd for the wrist bands, and maybe he was going overboard with the bandages underneath, but now that Derek looked around, he noticed that quite a few people used things to cover their wrists.

In the coffee shop alone, half the patrons wore some type of wrist guard, long sleeves, or fat bracelets and watches. The other half wore their numbers proudly – a mix of different times and blank skin. Thinking back to John Stilinski's wrist, Derek recalled the expensive watch covering his wrist, and then Melissa had those long sleeved cardigans. Both of their wrists showed zeroes, he was sure of it, and part of him wanted to grab their wrists and set them together to prove his own theory that they were compatible, but-

"Are you listening?" Jennifer asked, drawing Derek out of his thoughts.

"Sorry. I got distracted. You were saying?" he prompted and focused his attention on his date.

She was a fan of the big bracelet cover-up, but as his soul mate, her wrist most definitely held a big, bright set of zeros. In her hands, held in her delicate fingers, was a mug that used to hold black coffee with two sugars added. Her bracelet didn't budge an inch as she set the mug down to keep talking.

"I was telling you about my article. I did a piece about the Argents awhile back and I asked if you'd like to know some of their dirty secrets. You know, so maybe you could take them down a notch and win some of their clients," Jennifer explained.

But Derek shook his head before she was even done. "No, that's not how we operate. We win over clients with our skills and capability, not by shaming the competition… but thanks. It was a nice offer."

Never had a Hale resorted to dirty tricks to beat the Argents. Except that one time when Uncle Peter somehow got his hands on nude photos of golden child Kate Argent and they spread like wildfire on the internet. Not that anyone, including Derek, could prove Peter did it or ever had the images in his possession, but Derek knew he'd done it, and so did the Argents, and that was the important part.

That was six years ago, and honestly Derek was surprised the Argents hadn't tried to get revenge yet.

"Honorable," Jennifer said, her voice a downright purr. "I like that."

When his stomach rolled over in response, Derek took a huge gulp of his caramel iced coffee to quiet it. That purr was powerful, and he hadn't expected it from someone who looked so unimposing. She reached for his hand and brushed her fingers over his, sending a tiny shudder through his arm. Every time she touched him, it was like feeling his skin prickle with goose bumps, and it made his heart quicken.

Clearing his throat, Derek made a point of looking at his watch. "Sorry. I have to start heading back. The show tonight has a big opening act and we have to prepare for double security."

"Oh? Who's the opening act?" Jennifer asked, standing with Derek.

With a slight smirk, Derek shrugged. "A… friend of a friend of my family."

When the door opened to the second tour bus, no one was expecting the forceful woman who stepped off. Her hair was like fire, curled and crimped to fall around her face like a lion's mane, and her tight lips and stern brow made most of the gathered welcoming party take a step back. She wasted no time, and as soon as her hundred dollar kitten heels touched the asphalt, she was clicking her way over to Melissa McCall.

"Ms. McCall," she greeted, her voice all business. "Tell me you have doubled the security for tonight's show. After what happened at Stiles' first concert, you can understand our worries about safety."

"Of course, Ms. Martin," Melissa greeted with a polite smile. "And you can understand that I'd rather discuss the details with your mother."

There was a scoff and the red head opened her mouth to argue, but then an older woman of similar appearance cleared her throat in warning, and the hot shot red head rolled her eyes and walked away from Ms. McCall.

"Lydia, it's very rude to suggest people aren't doing their jobs," Mrs. Martin scolded and made her way over to Melissa. "Sorry about her. She's very protective."

In the crowd, Laura leaned into Derek and pursed her lips. "Well I guess it's good to see Lydia hasn't changed," she murmured and Derek nodded his agreement.

Lydia Martin was a bit of star in the Hale Security family. At only sixteen years old, she became known in the music business for taking control of situations she was not in charge of. Her mother, Natalie Martin, was just like Melissa McCall. She managed a few different small-time singers and acts before landing her big gig with her current client. But Lydia was the one who made headlines. Whether bad or good, Lydia's no-games attitude had won her the respect or fear of many.

She was a mother bear in the body of a now-twenty-one-year-old woman.

Of course there was another reason she was famous in the Hale Security family.

"Lydia?" a voice called from the back of the ground and Jordan Parrish pushed his way to the front. The young woman turned to face the call and anyone who hadn't stepped back before did so then…except for Jordan.

When he got to the front, Lydia's face broke into a warm smile. "Jordan," she greeted. It was not ecstatic. It was not energetic. But it was genuinely pleased. Apparently only the Hales could tell. The hired help didn't seem so sure, and one of them gave Parrish a wary look as he grinned and headed for Lydia.

Jordan stopped just short of Lydia and took a deep breath. "It's really good to see you," he said.

There was another scoff from Lydia and then she was smiling too. "Oh shut up and hug me, idiot."

Then Jordan was wrapping his arms around her and lifting her off the ground as she laughed and wrapped her arms around his strong neck. The tension in the crowd weakened, but people still seemed confused. After a long moment, Jordan finally set her back on her feet and then she pulled him down to her height for a kiss. He was only a few inches taller, but you could really tell the difference when she manhandled him like that. Jordan didn't mind though.

"Good to see that hasn't changed either," Derek muttered and this time Laura nodded, a warm smile on her lips.

Jordan Parrish joined the Hale Security firm five years ago. Everyone instantly loved him, or at least couldn't say anything bad about him. He had a way with people that was too similar to Talia's gifts for anyone to express any cross feelings. And then two years ago, while working a show, he'd run into the beautiful and young Miss Lydia Martin.

She'd liked him because he didn't flinch when she spoke and honestly seemed to consider everything she said worth listening to. He liked her because she was loyal to her friends and believed in herself, and she always told him he had the kindest heart in the world. Honestly, Derek couldn't even remember how they'd finally brushed arms and found out they were soul mates, but he's pretty sure that whatever happened was instigated by Lydia.

Their relationship really threw the Hale Security family into a short-lived panic. Not because they had anything against Lydia – oh no. It was who Lydia was so protective of and who her mother worked for.

Stepping off the bus at the end of Lydia and Jordan's display of affection was a young woman with wavy black hair and pretty, full lips. She smiled shyly at the PDA and rubbed at her covered wrists, a motion Derek was too familiar with these days.

"Hey Lydia, you might want to consider letting him breathe," she joked despite her demeanor, and when Lydia broke off her kiss, she turned to smile smugly at the other girl.

"I think someone's a bit jealous," Lydia said and tilted her head. Jordan laughed softly, his eyes on Lydia. "Get yourself a soul mate, Allison, and then we'll see the pot call the kettle black."

Now Melissa stepped forward and held out her hand to shake Allison's hand. "Miss Argent, welcome to the tour."

A small shocked noise caught Derek's attention behind him and he turned his head around to see who made it. Stiles was there, his conspicuous hoodie in place, and his eyes were wide. When he saw Derek take notice of him, he made wild motions with his hands to suggest Derek should keep quiet. With a small nod of his head, Derek accepted and Stiles calmed, but then he started making new hand motions indicating Allison and then Derek and then an iffy motion, and honestly Derek had no idea what he was trying to say at all.

"No, but it just hit me!" Stiles exclaimed when Derek walked into his dressing room twenty minutes later.

After their failed communication attempt, Stiles just mouthed to meet him in his room asap and left. As soon as Allison and her team were escorted away, Derek excused himself and headed inside to find out the cause of Stiles' wild actions.

"She's an Argent! You're a Hale! What was Melissa thinking when she hired you?" he ranted, spinning slightly in his little chair.

Derek grabbed the back of it to stop the movement and leaned over the other male. "You don't think she should have hired us? Weren't you the one who defended our employment?"

"That's not what I meant. I meant there's history between your families. She's the competition! No wonder the Argents wanted the contract so bad. Did you know she was gonna be running with us for a few shows?" Stiles asked.

"Yes," Derek replied, and for some reason Stiles swallowed heavily. Trying not to focus on the other's Adam's apple, Derek continued. "But she's not the competition. Allison is a singer, not a security firm. She left the family business to follow her dreams. I've known her for a few years, and I'm telling you, no one assigned to this detail has any hard feelings toward her for whom her family is."

"But someone in your family does," Stiles clarified and lowered his legs to the floor, sitting up straighter.

"Yes," Derek said again. They were very close to each other, especially with Stiles' new position, and Derek had a front row seat to the caramel depths of Stiles' eyes. "My… "

What was this feeling? Derek couldn't move. His hand was glued to the back of Stiles' chair, and he couldn't leave his position leaning over Stiles. The caramel from Stiles' eyes was coating Derek's brain like the flavor of his earlier coffee had coated his tongue, and he was taken aback by how bright and clear they were.

"Your?" Stiles prompted, and he sounded almost as stunned as Derek felt.

Closing his own eyes, Derek cleared his throat and forced himself to take two steps away from the chair. The movement caused Stiles to spin slightly, but with his feet now on the floor, the singer easily stopped himself.

"My uncle, Peter Hale, tends to hold grudges. He's very obsessed with the Argents and our rivalry. When he's focused, he's one of the best security officers you'll ever meet, but Argents distract him too much, so he wasn't invited," Derek explained and turned away.

In his chest, it felt like someone had beaten his heart with a hammer, and he had to concentrate on breathing normally so Stiles wouldn't take notice. This feeling… it was awful. Why did looking into Stiles' eyes cause his chest to feel so tight?

"Probably for the best. Wouldn't want him unscrewing stage lights over her head," Stiles said jokingly and suddenly Derek was able to breathe freely again.

With a small chuckle, he turned back to face Stiles again. "You need more things to tease me about. That joke is getting worn out."

"That joke is five days old," Stiles reminded. "But I can tease you about the reporter instead, if you'd like. How about – Probably a good thing your uncle didn't come. He might have made sex eyes at Allison for ten seconds and caused her to fall off stage. Then the Argents would be really pissed they didn't get this contract."

Although Stiles was smiling, Derek was not. For one thing, his uncle being a creepy almost-pedophile as he wooed Allison Argent was scarily close to everything Derek imagined his uncle doing if he ever showed up here. But for a far more important second thing, Stiles was insulting him.

"Why do you care so much who I date?" Derek asked, crossing his arms and setting a stern stare on those brilliant caramel eyes.

Something clogged Stiles' throat for a moment before he stuttered out. "Date? You just met her. You're dating her? Already?"

"Yes," Derek grunted out, although he wasn't sure if one coffee meet up would constitute as he and Jennifer dating. Should he ask her about that? Or could he just assume from her flirty talk and her asking him out the first time that they were officially dating now? "Now what's your problem?"

"Nothing." But it obviously bothered Stiles. He pursed his lips together and returned Derek's glare. "I just didn't realize you were such a romantic. Just a warning – sometimes people who are too good to be true, actually are. Watch yourself."

"Thanks, but I think I can handle my own love life," Derek growled out and headed for the door. "Your concern about Allison is appreciated, but the family rivalry won't affect business. I'll see you at rehearsal."

"Wai-"

But Derek was out the door and cutting Stiles off with a firm slam of the wood. What a brat. Okay, so Stiles was barely legal, just old enough to have those five glasses of champagne, but that didn't give him justification for insensitively butting into Derek's personal life over and over again.

First it was making fun of his zeroes. Now he was calling Derek a bad judge of character and a hopeless romantic. Derek was trying so hard to not hold it all against Stiles, but if he kept this shit up, Derek was going to reach his breaking point and ask to be removed to another assignment. Seriously. Fuck this kid.

And yet, all the way back to the security room, Derek kept feeling that strange numbness that had overcome him when he stared into Stiles' eyes. Was this a sign like Jennifer's tingles? Was it possible he and Stiles were never meant to get along? Or maybe… No.

No, Derek was a one love kind of guy. He didn't have two soul mates. Besides, his reactions to being with either of them were completely different. They were not the same at all, and Jennifer's were far more pleasant.

Preview, Chapter 6:

Derek's relationship with Jennifer is hard to define, but it's way easier than his relationship with Stiles. Scott is sure Stiles actually wants to be friends with Derek, but Derek isn't so sure, and figuring it out only becomes more of a challenge after an intense private meeting with Stiles after the concert.