Warning: This story does contain sexual coercion and stuff that would be deemed sexual abuse on a teenager. She is not hurt, and I have used every tag warning I can think of. If there is one I missed that you would suggest, please tell me. I apologize now, but you have been warned.
Secondary Warning: Because of this story being about an alpha that's using drugs to alter their chemistry, I want to state now there is some derogatory talk around it, only informational, and I mean absolutely NO offense whatsoever to anyone who is undergoing any kind of hormone therapy for a trans situation. I have total respect for that community and mean no ill will towards them, this is entirely fiction. I don't know what kind of tag I could use to warn against that, but there it is.
Disclaimer: No one in this story is real, the two characters are not in any way based off of real people, no one was hurt in the writing of this. It is not based off of any real events that I know of.
This can either be read as a stand alone, or as the intended sequel to The Alpha Problem.
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Rebecca did her best to not nervously worry her lower lip between her teeth as she sat inside the office of the store manager who ran the craft store she had applied at. She had lost count of how many interviews she had sat through with the hopes that someone would hire her, and so far this interview seemed to be going well. They had done the normal introductions with one another when she was brought to his office by one of the girls running the customer service desk, and he had even asked her a few of the basic questions she was used to at other interviews, but now he was going over her on-line application with an unreadable expression on his face and it looked like she was about to walk out of yet another office without a job. Mentally she was already prepared to go back to the job sites and sulk away the day with the rest of the pint of gelato her dad purchased for her when she was down the day before.
To avoid problems with school, her father, after much begging and pleading, had agreed to let her get her GED on the grounds that she got a job as soon as possible. She was trying, she really was, sometimes even having two or three interviews in one day, but she had struck out. Every. Single. Time.
Her scent was almost purely omega by now, with the barest hint of her female alpha scent remaining, but the illegal drugs still brought on infrequent heats.
While some omegas had infrequent heats, and that was an easy enough act for her to pull off with how well her at home drug therapy was going, omegas with infrequent heats were legally obligated to warn any employers of that fact. The last thing any company wanted was an omega hitting their heat mid shift and getting themselves raped by a coworker or customer. It was a legal (and PR) nightmare so, to protect everyone involved, the law was put in place. Also, any omega with this condition who wanted to work had to have paperwork from their doctor proving it, to avoid omegas with normal heat cycles using a legitimate excuse (for someone else) to leave work at the drop of a hat or suddenly take a leave of absence just because they felt like it.
Some companies followed that paperwork rule, others just didn't care as long as the work got done and no problems happened.
However, Becca had shit luck finding one of those places. It didn't help any that any place willing to hire her would be giving her the first experience she could put on her resume. Being a few weeks into eighteen and trying to find herself a job, while being an "omega with irregular heats", was proving to be difficult even with the sob story her father had helped her come up with.
When the older alpha behind the desk finally looked from his computer screen to her face, she smiled at him, sitting a little straighter since she had his attention. She hoped he couldn't see her pulse raising in her throat.
"Alright Ms. Newlin, a couple more questions for you..."
"Yes, Sir?"
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk as he folded his hands together. "I'm sorry about the sensitive subject matter, but for the sake of productivity I need to ask. I saw you marked on your application that you unfortunately have infrequent heats. How well do you think you'll be able to do your job if I were to hire you for the overnight stock position? Keep in mind that what you're not able to get done at night, either the rest of your crew or possibly the morning crew will have to finish."
"When I'm not in heat I can function just fine, Sir." On her side of the desk her hands squeezed her jeans covered knees out of his view, her stomach already starting to drop as the same old pattern of rejection started. "My heats rarely ever hit in the middle of my day, it's only happened once or twice, but I either have a day of warning or I wake up to it. I can't promise I'll never have to leave mid shift, but I can promise to warn you as far in advance as I can if you give me a chance."
The man whose name tag read "Richard" nodded as he listened to her, a pensive look to his eyes as he took her words in. "You have no job experience listed and you listed a GED as your education. Were your heats the reason you left school?"
"No." She answered quickly, resisting the urge to play with the hem of the v-neck shirt she wore; that would be visible to him and she wanted to appear as confident as possible. "My heats only cost me a couple of days throughout my last school year. I had to leave school and get my GED, but I swear it wasn't because of my heats. May I explain?"
Unlike the other managers to interview her, who wouldn't have let her, Richard surprised her by nodding while regarding her with a curious expression.
"My mother left when I was younger, and my father has been taking care of me all on his own since before I was even a teenager. Now he's losing hours at work and he's about to have to take a second job to keep making ends meet for us. I don't want him to do that, I want to help out, so I've been trying to find a place that will give me a chance and, as you can see on my application, so far no one has. I know you don't owe me anything Sir, but please, if you gave me a chance I could show you what a good worker I could be."
Richard leaned back in his chair as he looked at his computer screen, his hands now folding over his lap. It was obvious by the look on his face that he was weighing her words - way more than what anyone else had done for her before - and it gave her hope. His temporary silence seemed to stretch on for hours before he finally met eyes with her across his desk, his expression once again unreadable to her.
"If I agree to give you a chance, could you provide me the needed documentation for your infrequent heats?"
Rebecca wasn't sure if she had imagined it or not, but it sounded more like his question was challenging her to produce the documents, rather than inquiring about them. Regardless of how it was meant, she had never gotten this far and she was worried. They had ordered forgeries but they had yet to arrive, but she still gave a nod that she hoped didn't convey her nervousness. "When... When would you need them?"
