Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.

A/N: This is a one-shot request from poildegirafe! In response to your review on Legend: SAS, I think I did write a one-shot (or was it a two-shot?) similar to the one you suggested. I think it was Dire Circumstances. Lol, it's funny how I don't even remember… But, I'm writing another one with a similar idea because it's a great idea!

As for the love story that you requested, I'm not entirely sure if I can write a good one. Love stories are a bit of a weak point for me. However, I'll try my hand at it, but no guarantees that it'll be published!

Note: I'm still not very familiar with the UK education system (there's one or two lines about that), so if you notice anything inaccurate, please notify me in a review or a PM! Thanks :)

Semper Occultus: Always Secret

Semper Occultus

Everyone knew Ryan Cooper's father was a well respected commander in the Royal Air Force Regiment, otherwise known as the RAF Regiment. Everyone knew because Ryan was quite proud of this fact and often boasted, claiming that one day, he would follow in his father's footsteps. He would be a respected commander, only he would be better. Maybe he would work with the SAS, like his distant cousin's friend's sister's husband.

Ryan wanted to join the army right when he turned sixteen, but his father insisted that he stayed in secondary school, then attend university. Ryan tried to explain that it was pointless and that he didn't care for higher education, but his father wouldn't listen.

And so he was stuck in Brookland Comprehensive for another two years.

It wasn't like he didn't like the school. In fact, he enjoyed it very much. He was the top dog there. He had acceptable grades, a pretty girlfriend (Beth, was it?), and was co-captain of the football team, right after Alex Rider was kicked off of the team.

Just thinking about that despicable slab of meat made Ryan pull a disgusted face. Once upon a time, Ryan and Alex had been great friends. They hung out on the weekends, played video games together, stole homework answers from each other etcetera. But halfway through Year Nine, Alex had changed drastically.

Ryan couldn't pinpoint what it was, but the boy had felt so much colder than he had been before. His eyes no longer held the warmth that Ryan had grown accustomed to. He became defensive and antisocial.

He suspected it had something to do with Alex's uncle. Ryan knew that Ian was Alex's only living relative. The man had practically raised him. It was bound to hinder him for a while. Ryan could relate. His mum had died just the previous year.

Ryan had tried to reach out. He'd tried to tell Alex that he knew how he felt.

Alex didn't want to listen to him. He disappeared for days – even weeks – at a time, doing whatever he was doing. That was when the rumors began to start:

Alex was a druggie.

No, Alex was a drug dealer.

That's preposterous; he's just sick. Probably a mental condition.

Don't be stupid. He's part of a gang. How else would you explain those injuries?

Ryan tried his best to ward off the rumors and continue being friends with Alex, but the fair haired boy pushed him away. Eventually, Ryan stopped trying. He didn't bother trying to comfort Alex. Instead, he tried to aggravate him. He tried saying anything that would spark emotion out of the boy.

Nothing.

Ryan became angry – furious even. His former best friend was rejecting him, but not that Tom Harris guy. Alex had known Ryan for at least three years longer than Tom! What did Ryan do wrong?

But it didn't matter to him anymore. Alex was a figment of his past. Nothing more and nothing less.

On Ryan's eighteenth birthday, his father managed to convince him to attend university. It would look good on his resume, he had said. It would increase his chances of promotion.

No one could deny that Ryan was a determined, hard-worker. He had even broken up with Beth (as he had learned, her name was actually Britt) just to focus on his studies.

Age twenty-three, Ryan Cooper, the newly Cambridge graduate, enlisted in the British Army.

It was a very short service. Ryan barely passed the basic training, and he was told he didn't have the right skills for that type of work.

Dejected, Ryan spent the next week moping around his flat. He was giving up. Nothing could satisfy his desire. He'd worked so hard to get in, and he hadn't been good enough in the end.

On the seventh day of his pity party, someone came to his door, knocking politely, then demanding not-so-politely to come in.

Ryan didn't know the person at his door. The man was inconspicuous, wearing a grey suit that almost made him blend into the grey wall. The man introduced himself as Agent Troye Kenwood, an operative at Military Intelligence Sector Six.

It was a crude joke. Ryan wasn't pleased, ushering the man out with an unhappy scowl on his face.

Until Agent Troye Kenwood flashed his very real ID.

So twenty-three year old Cambridge graduate Ryan Cooper became twenty-three year old MI6 operative Agent Ryan Cooper.

SEMPER*OCCULTUS

"Morning, Cooper!"

Ryan sent a friendly wave at the security guard who had spoken. He'd never bothered to learn the man's name, but somehow he knew Ryan's.

He quickly signed in at the receptionist's desk, then proceeded to the elevator, pressing the button that read "3".

"Welcome, Agent Cooper," the voice was electronic. It was the elevator.

"Morning, elevator," Ryan greeted, looking up at the lights. Truthfully, it never got old, even if he had been hearing every single day for three years.

The elevator opened, accompanied by its usual ding! Ryan stepped out, heading for his cubicle.

Over the past three years, Ryan had been assigned to exactly five missions. It was a disappointing amount, considering that his missions were very basic. He sent packages on two of them, picked up packages on another two, and on his last mission, he went undercover as a police officer who was undercover as a window-wiper. It was confusing and boring. He hadn't even seen any action.

Ryan had heard that the higher level agents (he was only a level four himself) were sent on more missions and always saw action. He'd been very bitter about this until a colleague assured him that the agents had worked their way up the ranks for a long time.

Ryan, always the diligent and efficient man, had asked how long they had worked their way up. His answer was a short, "five years. Well, that is, if you can stay alive that long."

He thought he was well on his way to climbing up the ranks of MI6. Just the other day, Ryan had heard that he might be getting a promotion. He trusted this rumor, mostly because he was in a building full of spies.

"You had a call just a moment ago," Silvia, the woman next to his cubicle, stated informatively, "I hope you don't mind that I took it for you."

"That's… fine," Ryan nodded slowly. It was clearly not fine, "Who was it?"

"Your C.O."

Commanding Officer. Ryan's commanding officer was a bloke called Ben Daniels. He'd been in the agency for nearly twelve years. It was an impressive amount of time, but the record was held by a (dead) man called "Agent I.R.", who served for nearly thirty years.

Agent Daniels was a very laid back man. Ryan liked him because he didn't like being called 'sir', always addressed him as an equal, and made jokes to lighten the mood. He was one of the higher, senior agents that always seemed to know more than what they said.

Quite frankly, Ryan admired him.

"Right," Ryan set down his briefcase on his chair, "Thanks, Silvia."

The woman nodded, turning back to her computer.

Ryan quickly headed back for the elevator, stabbing the up arrow with his thumb. He quickly entered the lift, pressing the sixth floor button. The elevator greeted him with its usual, "Welcome, Agent Cooper."

A moment later, Ryan was knocking on Ben's door, eager. There were few reasons why his commanding officer would call him up. One was because he was getting promoted, another was because he was to be sent on a mission, and lastly, he might be getting fired. Ryan hoped that wasn't the case.

"Come in!" Ben's voice was easily heard through the wooden door.

Ryan turned the knob, smiling politely once he was in.

"Ah, Ryan! I've been waiting ages," Ben grinned at him, a teasing tone in his voice, "take a seat."

Ryan did so, waiting impatiently. He began to tap his fingers on his right leg nervously, but abruptly stopped, knowing that Ben would notice.

"I suggest you memorize what's on these files," Ben said, the usual lightness in his voice fading, "Complete this mission successfully, and you'll be promoted. Fail and – I won't lie to you – most likely, you'll die."

Ryan raised his eyebrows.

"This mission was assigned to exactly five other agents before you," Ben was serious now, his eyes darkening in a way that made Ryan shiver. "Each of them are MIA."

"T-then," Ryan cursed himself for stuttering, "Why are you sending me? Why not one of the senior agents? I'm not very experienced in the field."

For a moment, the man looked extremely annoyed, but it was gone in a flash.

"There are only a limited amount of senior agents," Ben explained, "All five of the missing agents are senior agents."

Ryan gulped, trying to understand what he was saying, "Then why am I being sent?"

Ben gave him a look, "I'll be honest. The head doesn't want to blindly throw all of her best chess pieces onto the board. You're a pawn. A chance."

"Of course," Ryan said dully, already having it figured out.

"I'm sorry," Ben held out the file, a small frown on his face. Ryan took it numbly, fingering through the limited amount of information.

He looked up, "When am I being sent?"

Ben's face twitched slightly, "Tomorrow morning."

Ryan accepted his fate with a groan.

SEMPER*OCCULTUS

In the end, Ryan succeeded with a stroke of luck. He had been promoted to Security Clearance Level Five, where he stayed for another five months.

He began to receive more and more missions until he was going on little missions every other month. Within another three years, Ryan had gotten to Security Clearance Level Eight and was considered a senior agent. He was ranked as tenth (though he wasn't supposed to know), but he could never figure out who the other ten were.

Despite this, Ryan Cooper was very proud of himself.

Ring ring!

Ryan looked up from his paperwork to the phone on the corner of his desk. He was no longer in the stuffy little cubicle on floor three, but rather, had his own office.

"Cooper," he spoke into the receiver, cradling the phone between his shoulder and ear while trying to finish the last of his paperwork.

"I need to see you in my office." Click.

Ryan sighed in annoyance as he hung up his phone. There was only one person who was so curt. Tulip Jones, the head of MI6.

He slowly dragged himself out of his chair and out into the hall, where he situated himself by the lift. The doors slid open with a ding and as soon as Ryan pressed the button, an electronic voice greeted him with a, "Welcome, Agent Cooper."

"Thanks," he muttered, grinning to himself.

Ryan exited seconds later, heading for Mrs. Jones' office. He'd only been there six times for his mission assignments, but he remembered the way perfectly.

The moment he knocked, the woman inside called out, "Come in!"

"Good morning, ma'am," Ryan greeted politely, trying his best not to wrinkle his nose at the strong smell of peppermints. It wasn't necessarily a bad smell, but he had always associated the smell with a stuffy old cat-lady.

Mrs. Jones accepted his greeting with a nod, "Come and sit down, Agent Cooper."

Ryan followed her instruction carefully, "Is there something you needed me for, ma'am?"

"It'll be explained in a moment," Mrs. Jones tactfully avoided his question. She picked up the bowl of peppermints that rested on her desk, "Peppermint?"

Ryan shook his head, "No, thank you, ma'am."

The woman withdrew the bowl, taking one of the peppermints for herself, "He'll be here in a moment."

Ryan raised his eyebrows, but didn't question her. Instead, he waited patiently for whoever Mrs. Jones was waiting for.

A minute passed, then two... then three… then thirty…

Mrs. Jones checked her watch, taking another peppermint.

Another thirty minutes passed.

Just as Ryan was about to ask to use the loo, the office door opened with an earsplitting BAM!

Thankfully, Ryan had been trained not to react at sudden noises, but it didn't stop his heart from nearly stopping.

Mrs. Jones, as per usual, didn't even bat an eye.

Ryan turned to see who had so rudely opened the door. The person hadn't knocked. Did they have a death wish?

"You!"

The man who stood there looked vaguely familiar, but Ryan couldn't pinpoint it. He had short, recently cut, blonde hair, angry brown eyes, and a few scars on his youthful face. He was about Ryan's age as far as he could tell. It was always hard to tell with spies.

The man pointed an accusing finger at Mrs. Jones, and it was then that Ryan realized he was absolutely soaking wet.

"You little..." the man struggled with the right work, "Dalek!"

Mrs. Jones remained impassive, but looking back at her, Ryan could detect amusement in her eyes.

"Sit down, agent," she nodded to the empty space beside Ryan.

The man followed her orders grudgingly. Ryan, catching a whiff of the guy, forced back a gag.

"I nearly drowned!" the man looked miffed, "Again! That's the fifth time this week, Jones!"

"I don't suppose they tried to drown you in the River Thames, did they?"

Ryan couldn't believe his ears. Was the famous, stoic Mrs. Jones, bantering with someone?

"As a matter of fact," the man said grumpily, "they did."

Mrs. Jones made a motion like she wanted roll her eyes, "Did you get the information?"

The man gave her a piercing look that clearly read 'what do you take me for?' He soundlessly pulled a Ziplock bag from out of his sopping wet jacket, handing it over to Mrs. Jones. She took it from him delicately, pouring the contents out on her desk and throwing the bag into the bin.

Fwoosh!

Ryan wasn't surprised when the bin spewed out tongues of flame, which engulfed the Ziplock bag. The smell of fire and burnt substance was quickly removed when a hissing sound emanated from the bin and the scent of peppermints rushed toward him.

Ha! Ryan knew she had to have peppermint perfume!

"Very well," Mrs. Jones inspected the contents of the bag, "As I was told, you two know each other well. You'll be sent in the field for undercover work, posing as adopted brothers, starting next week."

"Wait," Ryan was puzzled, as he turned to the man, "I don't know who you are..."

The man threw Ryan a look before turning back to Mrs. Jones, "Why can't I have Ben? He's been my partner for, I dunno, a thousand years."

"Fifteen years," Mrs. Jones corrected, "But Agent Daniels participated in only a quarter of your missions."

"Technicalities," the man waved off, pointedly not acknowledging Ryan.

Mrs. Jones let out the tiniest of sighs, "Introduce yourselves."

The man rolled his eyes before turning to Ryan. Their eyes locked as the man began speaking, "Your name is Ryan H. Cooper. You were a Cambridge graduate – impressive grades. Originally, you aspired to be a soldier, but ultimately failed. A good friend of mind, Troye – he's dead now – came to you and hired you. You've been an employee for six years. Level Eight Clearance. Ranked number ten. Unfortunately, you don't have a license to kill, and it seems that you haven't killed anyone. Surprising since you've been here for six years."

Ryan stared at him, slack-jawed. Of course, the information was relatively basic, but he had never met this man before in his entire life. Why would he bother to learn so much about him?

"Me," the man sounded bored, "A graduate of all over the place, so to speak. Aspired to be a footballer, but got sucked up by MI6. I've been an employee for fifteen years. Level I'm-not-telling-you Clearance. Ranked number none-of-your-business. I have a license to kill-"

"Alex," Mrs. Jones sounded exasperated, "Those don't actually exist."

The man, Alex or whatever, turned to give her an annoyed look before looking back at Ryan, "Are you sure you don't recognize me?"

Ryan swallowed a lump in his throat, unsure why he was feeling… what was the word? Dread?

"Um – you're name is, er, Alex?"

The man sighed impatiently, "Yes, Ryan," he said slowly, as if he were speaking to a toddler, "My name is Alex..."

He seemed to be waiting for Ryan to understand something.

"Alex… Rider," the man said even slower.

Ryan's mouth fell open, "A-Al-A-?"

"Say it with me," Alex said in a sarcastically encouraging tone, "Alex Rider."

Ryan's eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he was vaguely aware of laughter before he sunk into unconsciousness.

Oh gosh. He'd just fainted, hadn't he?

A/N: Oh my llamas. I am so freakin' tired. It's like 4 AM right now. Not cool.

Anyway, hope you guys liked this! By the way, Semper Occultus is MI6's motto. I didn't know that until I starting brainstorming for ideas.

I would talk more, but truthfully, I want to post this, and then go to sleep. GOODNIGHT.

-Alice x