Disclaimer: If I owned Alex Rider, being honest, I probably wouldn't be posting on here, even though I do love you all. Do you think authors ever write quirky little fics of their own stories and post them, though, just because it's fun?

A/N: Just a little something I knocked up whilst I was away. Enjoy!

Honesty is the best policy

Alex wasn't quite sure how he'd been married for three weeks and his wife still didn't know he worked for MI6.

He did know. Of course he did. Rather predictably, it was because he hadn't told her. And now, lying on his side in bed, propped up on his elbow and watching Sophie sleep, he wasn't sure he wanted to.

This was the last night of their honeymoon in the Maldives, and it had been bliss from start to finish. He hadn't brought his phone. He hadn't brought his laptop. And before he'd left, he'd told Blunt in no uncertain terms that if Crawley or Mrs. Jones turned up on Huvafen Fushi, he would feed them to the sea turtles. For once, they had taken him seriously and left him alone for three whole weeks. Alex knew he couldn't hide forever. But he didn't want to give up this normality. For the first time in ten years, he had something that MI6 hadn't infected. Yet.

Moonlight peeked between the curtains and spilled onto Sophie's face. She was a beauty, no doubt about that, and Alex had been captivated the moment he saw her. He had met her when he'd picked Jack's son up from school one afternoon. Felix was four years old at the time, somehow the spitting image of both Jack and her husband Andrew, and hadn't quite learned to control his bladder at all appropriate times by the time he started school in September. Alex had gone to pick him up in his second week. He hadn't been able to see him in the playground, so he'd wandered into the classroom. There had been Felix, sitting on a tiny red stool, with very red eyes to match and looking wretched, and an auburn-headed women knelt down next to him. Felix avoided looking at Alex, even though he'd seen him approach. The woman, on the other hand, evidently hadn't because she jumped nearly a foot in the air when Alex spoke.

"Hi buddy. Everything all right? Ready to go home?"

The woman started, and turned her head towards him, but didn't stand up. She was very pretty, with pale skin under her freckles, and green eyes that matched her dress. Alex noticed she was holding Felix's hand.

"You must be...Felix's father?" she said uncertainly. Alex looked his twenty-three years, and could have been a young father he supposed, but he was definitely too young for Jack.

"No, no," he said hastily. "I'm Felix's...brother. Uncle, more. I don't have kids." He wasn't exactly sure why he added that last bit.

The woman raised her eyebrows. "Which is it? Brother or uncle?"

Alex's lips twitched. She was feisty, at least. "Actually, neither, really. Jack – Felix's mum – took care of me when I was growing up." He grinned at Felix. "I'm better than an uncle, though, right, pal?"

Usually Felix grinned back and gave him a high five, but today he just gave Alex a wan smile and went back to staring at the floor. Alex gave a slight grown, and, forgetting the woman – Felix's teacher? – for a second, he kneeled down right in Felix's line of vision.

"What's up?" he asked.

It was actually the woman who answered him.

"Felix had a little accident today," she said, very seriously, but her eyes twinkled as she met Alex's gaze. "He's a bit embarrassed about it."

"Embarrassed?" Alex turned his attention back to Felix. "Happens to everyone, bud. Happened to me in front of the whole class. And this really pretty girl wouldn't talk to me for a week."

Felix sniffed. "Really?"

"Absolutely," Alex lied. He winked. "Come on, I won't tell your mum. It will just be between you and me and...?"

"Miss Griffin," the teacher supplied.

"Miss Griffin," Alex repeated. The fact she was unmarried didn't go unnoticed. Felix, suddenly looking much happier, his mood changing as abruptly as the English weather, jumped up off the chair.

"Can we get an ice cream on the way home?"

"Sure thing. But we can't tell your mum about that either." Alex turned to Miss Griffin. "It's been a pleasure meeting you, Miss Griffin," he said, extending his hand, though the action didn't come close to what his imagination was thinking of.

"And you, Mr..."

"Rider. Alex, actually."

"Alex." Miss Griffin smiled, and Alex swallowed. "Er...we're still down on the ground."

Alex hadn't even noticed. He stood up, offering a hand to Miss Griffin, who took it. Alex held her gaze for a split second, before turning to Felix and taking his hand.

"Well, see you sometime," he said to the teacher.

"I hope so." Miss Griffin's eyes twinkled again.

Alex didn't want to leave, but leave he did. But before they were even out of the door, Felix was on to him.

"Alex, Miss Griffin is twenty-three, just like you. She's pretty. And really nice. You should marry her."

Alex stopped dead in the doorway of the classroom, and turned on the spot, leaving Felix half in the corridor and walking back to Miss Griffin, who was standing where he had left her. She looked amused.

"Miss Griffin," Alex began.

"Sophie," she corrected, as he'd hoped she would.

"Sophie," he continued with a smile, "marriage might be a little too premature, but I wondered if you'd like to have dinner with me tomorrow evening?"

And here was the result. Alex smirked even as he watched Sophie chest rise and fall in the half light. A four year-old could organise his life better than he could. Go figure.

Jack had laughed when she'd heard the story, and even harder when Alex told her he really was going to marry Miss Griffin. Jack loved Sophie. Everyone loved Sophie. But Jack wanted him to tell her about his job.

"Alex, you can't marry her and not tell her! What are you going to do, tell her you're an overseas bank manager?"

That had stung. And Alex hadn't lied. He just sidestepped telling Sophie the whole truth. She knew he worked for the civil service and had to travel, and he'd let her assume it was for the Foreign Office without ever confirming it. When Jack had questioned him again the day before the wedding, cornered, Alex had blurted out that he had indeed told Sophie, and she was fine with it. Jack had been satisfied. But Alex had lived in fear all through the wedding reception that Jack was going to say something to his new wife. She would eventually. Alex needed to get there first.

He had even, in desperation, told Tom about his predicament, at his stag do, the night before the wedding. He never drank. Very rarely, anyway. But somehow Tom had got him plastered, and, although Alex still had the sense to keep his mouth shut in front of their other friends, once Tom had half-carried him home and they were sitting at Alex's kitchen table together (Alex with a very large glass of water in front of him) Alex had blurted out everything.

"I still haven't told her, Tom!"

Tom, of course, had been slightly tipsy himself, but still knew exactly what Alex was talking about. He had clapped a hand on Alex's shoulder.

"Just tell her," he advised, slurring his words slightly, but sounding very sensible and knowledgeable to Alex's drunken ears. She's a great girl. She'll take it in her stride. Your mum did, right?"

Somewhere underneath the numbed consciousness, a pang. Would Helen Rider have liked Sophie Griffin? How had she reacted when John Rider had told her he was spy? Had he done so before they got married? Before he proposed? Alex had run a hand down his face.

"Jack's going to put her foot in it."

"Well, tell her before Jack does, you idiot."

Yeah, you idiot. Tell her before Jack does. The same thought had plagued Alex for the last three weeks. He'd kept burying it, ignoring it, kicking it away, but he was running out of time. They were leaving the following day. Sophie was still on her summer holiday, was selling her flat and moving in with him, and was bound to notice his odd hours. Not telling her was not an option any longer. They were married – for better or for worse, right? Yet how could Alex confess he'd been hiding a major part of his life since their first date?

Disgusted with himself, and unable to watch Sophie, so innocent in sleep, any longer, Alex pushed the sheets back and climbed out of bed. The air was warm, and he was naked from the waist up. He'd given up being self-conscious about the bullet scar on his chest; it was a decade old. He'd told Sophie he'd been caught in a crossfire in a shop robbery that went wrong. It had been an accident; the bullet hadn't been meant for him.

He crossed the tiled floor to the window, pulling back the curtain slightly. Their villa was right on the beach, and the scene was beautiful, tranquil. The water lapped against the sand and the moon was reflected in a long, rippling line on the sea's uneven surface. Paradise. Perhaps they could stay there forever. But, much as Alex hated to admit it, it wasn't enough for him – he needed more excitement than a life on a desert island.

How was he going to tell her?

"Alex, is anything wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Alex said, so automatically he didn't even register Sophie had woken up and spoken to him. He heard the bed creak, and then light footsteps as her bare feet padded across the floor. He didn't turn around, but a second later Sophie's skinny arms were around him, and she was kissing his back.

"You're a lousy liar," she told him.

Actually, I'm not, Alex thought with a stab of guilt. "Just thinking," he said out loud.

"About?" Sophie hand to stand on her tiptoes to kiss his neck.

"You. Us."

"Too late; we're already married." Sophie's left hand waggled in front of him even though she'd taken her wedding ring off before she'd gone to bed. Alex could help but smile.

"Not like that," he said.

"I know, silly." Still behind him, Sophie traced a light line from his neck down his spine with one finger. "It's something serious, though. Do you want to talk about it?"

That was how Sophie was; never asked what the problem was before asking if you wanted her to interfere. It made her students trust her implicitly.

Alex let out a deep sigh, watching the water continue to lap against the shore. He didn't know if he did want to talk. If he opened his mouth, he was afraid everything would come pouring out in no sensible order.

Sophie took his silence as an answer. "Come back to bed," she said, taking his hand. "Maybe it'll look different in the morning."

Alex doubted a job with MI6 looked better at any time of day, but he allowed himself to be pulled back to bed. He put his arms around his new wife as they lay down, resting his chin on the top of her head as she snuggled into his side, clearly ready to go back to sleep.

"I love you, Alex," he heard her whisper. She said it every time she went to sleep, but this time it made Alex squeeze his eyes shut. It wasn't fair. He wasn't who she thought he was.

"Sophie, I'm a spy," he said quietly.

"Like James Bond?" Sophie sounded half-asleep. Alex was afraid she wasn't really listening.

"Yes. Well, I'm an MI6 agent." It felt strange to say it out loud; the last time he'd told someone like that, it had been on a train in Italy ten years before. "I thought you should know."

"Hmm. Very exciting. I'm married to James Bond." Sophie's arms went around his waist, drawing him even closer.

"Aren't you angry? I didn't lie to you, but..." Alex floundered. He had been so concerned about telling Sophie, and now she didn't seem to care.

"It explains a lot. You're very mysterious, you know. I thought you were some sort of drug lord, until Jack assured me that definitely wasn't the case."

Alex might have laughed at this if he hadn't been so confused by Sophie's reaction. "You married me even though you knew something didn't add up?"

"I trusted you."

Alex smiled at that, and kissed the top of Sophie's auburn head. "I really need to teach you not to be so trusting."

"It's worked in your favour, hasn't it?" Sophie still sounded sleepy, but she had one question, almost inevitably. Her hand moved from around his waist and up his chest until her fingers were lightly touching the scar over his heart. "Was it really an accident?"

He didn't really want to tell the story – not now; he didn't want to scare her – but he'd resolved he wouldn't lie to her any more. "No," he said. "Someone tried to assassinate me."

Sophie's fingers traced the scar round and round. "When?"

"When I was fourteen."

Sophie's hand balled into a fist. "Don't tell me that story now," she whispered. "It sounds like something that's going to make me angry."

As a teacher and a lover of children of all ages, it probably would. "Okay." He paused, and then spoke again. "Are you sure you're okay with this?"

Sophie pulled back from him and in the moonlight Alex could see her looking him directly in the eye, the way she did when she wanted him to listen.

"It's not a surprise and I still love you. I'd probably still love even if you were a drug lord. Though I might ask you to stay away from my school."

"I love you," Alex said, and meant it. He kissed her, and then put his arms around her again so she could settle back against him. He was silent for several minutes. "I can't believe you took that so well. I've been worrying about it all holiday."

When Sophie spoke, it was definitely in a voice that had been dragged from the depths of a doze, and was probably, Alex realised later, the reason why he managed to catch her off guard.

"I know," she murmured. "Tom told me at the wedding. Something about you being nervous about telling me." A pause and then: "I wasn't supposed to tell you that." Then her breathing evened out, and became slow and deep, signalling she'd fallen asleep. Alex's mouth dropped open as he stared into the darkness. He'd thought it was Jack he had to keep an eye on. Now it turned out it was Tom who needed to be watched! Tom, who thought he was too scared to tell Sophie the truth! Alex's eyes narrowed.

He was going to kill Tom when he got back.

A/N: Please take the time to review – I get a lot of satisfaction from writing, but your reviews motivate me to write even more. Thanks for reading!