A shameless omegaverse AU
It came to Sherlock's attention that lately someone had been leaving gifts on his doorstep.
At first, he thought it was someone courting Ms. Hudson. Good for her, honestly about time, Sherlock had had enough of her nagging him and a mate would occupy her thoughts for a while to give him time to save up his next rent.
Except Ms. Hudson huffed and disagreed, it wasn't, it was addressed specifically for Mr. Sherlock Holmes, 221B Baker Street.
Then Sherlock thought this was just a gift from his past clients. And it would have been normal for Sherlock to receive gifts from them, though, if only it was not scented in a way that would make anyone believe the sender was interested in courtship. It was an alpha's scent, Sherlock could tell, uncharacteristically light and comforting for their kind. That, and the fact that this was not a one-time occurrence, crossed the past client probability out of his list.
The packages never seem to have any return address. The paper was always produced by different factories throughout the London area, from common handmade ones to the rather high-classed West End ones.
Sherlock did keep guard from his second story window to catch the mysterious sender delivering his gift, except they deliver it at seemingly random intervals, sometimes in quick successive days, and sometimes in a weekly interval, to a month. Sometimes they would deliver it at night, sometimes in broad daylight, and Sherlock always misses it by several minutes. There was one time John had to force Sherlock to bed for staking out so much that he did not sleep for 5 days.
The contents of the gifts itself were strange, to say the least. It was proper etiquette to give courtship gifts that were not expensive, lest it would be seen as an attempt to bribe the target's affections, but this certain alpha did not think much of that etiquette. Which was strange, since all gifts indicated that the sender was of noble birth, and should have known and held this etiquette in high importance.
Sherlock would often find proper courting gifts such as books, music sheets, and the occasional soap. And then, after a while, he would receive the less proper (but still thoughtful, Sherlock grudgingly noted) ones in between: shoes, fur coat, fluffy warm blankets, scarves, needless antiques, embroidered coasters, chemical beakers, and even a pipette set.
Once he even found a cabinet on his doorstep.
It could be mockery. That Sherlock was cheap. That he could not even afford basic necessities for himself and would throw himself to a random stranger for it.
But it did not smell like it. In fact, it did not smell malicious at all. The alpha only smelled sincere, clearly thinking of Sherlock when they made the purchase, and gifted it to him without hoping for any credits to their name.
The entire business was enigmatic yet harmless; he could not help but think of the pretty mathematics professor in the Noahtic.
When they met again by chance on the train Sherlock sat at his table and got a clearer whiff of Liam. It was a shame that this professor had a mild scent, so mild that Sherlock could not recall how it smelled, only that it was pleasant and soft. Sherlock had assumed the blond man was a beta.
Despite this, the professor being the mysterious suitor wasn't an entirely foregone possibility: suppressants were in high demand these days. It helped people tone down their instincts and tendencies, and Sherlock could see why it was popular with every excruciating heat he got. When he graduated from Oxford he started taking it regularly to completely prevent his heats.
The only questionable part was why an alpha had to suppress their second gender in the first place. There were no discernible disadvantages for being an alpha, and their rut wasn't as bad nor as often as an omega's, so why hide that fact?
