<span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#99ff99">Detective Val Marconi had been tailing his partner for hours.  He knew damned well that the man was up to no good -- he'd had the cocky, self-satisfied look on his face far too often in the last few weeks.  That never boded well.  Finding him in this crappy little alley did nothing to assuage Val's suspicions, either.<br/>
<br/>
Seeing his partner take an Omega whore down the alley and walk out with an extra spring in his step?  Yeah.  Definitely not okay.<br/>
<br/>
Val waited a moment before approaching the Omega.  He was aware that he looked like a cop -- it was hard not to.  He was built like a linebacker, all shoulders and biceps, with a thick head of dark hair atop his olive complexion.  His heritage was strongly Terran Italian, and it showed.  In addition to his stature, he was an Alpha who didn't bother with scent blockers, finding he preferred others to be aware of his designation, and able to reassure themselves of his intent by scent.  <br/>
<br/>
That scent was focused on being calm and reassuring right now.  "Sir?" he asked softly, not wanting to frighten what was probably already a traumatized Omega.  "May I have a word?"</span></span>