A/N: Alex is ten years older than when he first worked for MI6 (Stormbreaker) and Scorpia Rising never happened to him, basically because I haven't read it yet. Feedback would be great. Enjoy!

"What is your name?"

He had been asked this more times than he could even remember. The answer to the question, whenever asked to him, was always different. There were very few people who knew his real identity, but that was an occupational hazard. He had very few real friends, and they were all unknown. Well, not entirely unknown. They just weren't associated with him. That was for their own protection, and he had made certain those people were to never be associated with him. For the past ten years, this had been his life. Just fourteen years old when he first began, and he'd been adamant that he would not spend his life like this; despite the fact that both his father and uncle had been in this line of work. The reason he'd continued to do this was because it paid well and he was good at it. His uncle had raised him to do this. It was natural to him.

"Rider, Mrs Jones wants to see you."

Alex Rider was suddenly brought out of his thoughts by the young man speaking to him. The man was only a year younger than Alex himself. He wasn't a field agent, he was a "paper pusher". Alex couldn't help feeling sorry for him, getting into this business so young. He knew that this young man would be known as a banker by his family and friends, working for the Royal and General Bank. This was a lie. In reality, this young man worked at MI6, keeping paperwork organised and making sure everything was efficient.

"Thank you, Smith. And if you could get a copy of the paperwork from my last mission on my desk, I would appreciate it."

"Yes, sir."

Sir. The title made Alex feel far older than his twenty-four years. He ran a hand through his hair absent-mindedly as Smith left the room, his thoughts now turned to questioning what Mrs Jones wanted. Most likely my next assignment, he thought somewhat bitterly. This wasn't the worst job he could possibly have, he had seen most of the world, he was paid well and it kept him fit. Unfortunately for him, what he had seen of the world wasn't nice, he never had the time to make use of his money and he couldn't meet a girl to impress with his fitness. He slowly got to his feet, and walked out of his office to go and meet with Mrs Jones.

"Alex, how pleasant to see you again."

"Mrs Jones." He gave a small nod in greeting to her.

"Please sit, I have your next assignment."

Alex sat down opposite her. This used to be Alan Blunt's office, but he had retired two years ago. Mrs Jones had taken his place at the head of MI6. Even Alex could agree that it had been a smart choice, Mrs Jones knew how to run a tight ship and she took as good care of her agents as she could possibly, given that they were all in a dangerous line of work.

"Where will I be going?"

"New York. This is a simple assignment, especially for someone with your abilities. All you need to do is protect someone, and keep an eye out for trouble."

"If it's so simple, can I ask why it's being assigned to me and not one of the less experienced agents who could do with the experience?"

Mrs Jones' lips almost curved into a smile. She never actually smiled, just almost. Alex always managed to make her do this, they had known one another for ten years. They had quite a history together, Alex had even broken into her home to kill her once. He knew more about Mrs Jones than anyone else at MI6, but he never spoke about anything he knew of her. She returned the courtesy, never speaking of Alex's personal life.

"You are being assigned this particular one because you were asked for."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Asked for?"

"Yes, as in the person in need of a bodyguard requested you. We wouldn't normally assign our agents to play bodyguard, as well you know, but the person is very well known and is in some potential danger; this danger will not only end the person's life but it would destroy a lot of the rainforests in South America."

"What's the damage?"

"The person is a reporter, and has written articles concerning the PFP terrorist group. You are familiar with them?"

Alex shook his head. He was aware of many terrorist groups, and had had meetings with many of them in his missions. This one, however, was unknown to him.

"PFP stands for People For People. They want to wipe out "space wasters", like the rainforests and such they believe, and create a modern world where only people stand. A modern world for the modern person."

"Sounds stupid."

"I thought you might think that."

"So I just have to play bodyguard to this person, and do basic investigations to see if I can find anyone associated with the PFP, and report back?"

"Yes."

"Has Smithers been told I have a new mission?"

"Yes, he has prepared some things for you. When you leave this room, you are to go straight to his office to receive them."

"Do you have my briefing here, or is it on my desk?"

"It'll be on your desk by now."

"When do I leave?"

"Tomorrow evening, arriving in New York on Wednesday at 10am."

"And how long is this assignment?"

"About a month, I should imagine."

"Alright." Alex stood up to leave. He liked going to see Mr Smithers, he was always a fun visit. "Goodbye, Mrs Jones."

"Oh, Alex, just one more thing."

He turned to face her again. "Yes?"

"You won't be a typical bodyguard. You are undercover. We don't want the PFP to know we're investigating them, or that the person is under protection. If they know it, they might not act and we won't be able to get them."

"Alright, what will I be?"

"A boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?"

"Yes, you will be undercover as this woman's boyfriend."

"Alright. Goodbye, Mrs Jones."

"Goodbye, Alex. And good luck."

Alex nodded at her and left the room. Mrs Jones opened the file on her desk, it contained all of the tiniest little details about this assignment. She hadn't told him who the person he would be protecting is. He hadn't asked. This was a tedious assignment to give to Alex, he was used to receiving the hardest ones, the damn near impossible ones. He would meet the person in two days anyway, and he would know why it had to be him. She shut the file, and sent for another agent for another mission, Alex forgotten for now.

"Alex, my dear boy! How are you?"

"I'm well, thank you Mr Smithers. How are you doing?"

"I'm just swell, old boy! Now, I've been told you have a very simple mission this time.."

"Yes."

"Well, you know me, I can't have you going off without some gadgets. Wouldn't like you coming home in pieces."

Alex grinned at him. He always enjoyed visiting Smithers.

"What have you got for me this time?"

Smithers took out several items for a box marked "AR". Alex's personal gadget box. "I have your usual stuff. A phone, which has a direct line to Mrs Jones' office."

"Press the call button three times?"

"Yes, glad you remember. And press the end call button three times to set off a smoke bomb."

"I remember. What else?"

"Sunglasses."

"Sunglasses?"

"They look like normal sunglasses, of course. But if you press the middle part here, where they sit on your nose.." He pushed the glasses onto Alex's face, pressing the middle part as if he was simply pushing Alex's glasses up for him. Suddenly, Alex could see everthing that Smithers had in his pockets.

"Good, don't you think? It's summer and I know it gets sunny in New York, so I thought they could be useful."

"Very cool, Mr Smithers." Alex grinned as he took off the glasses, putting them back in their case.

"I also have one of your favourites, the small bomb coins."

"Excellent, they really do come in useful."

"They certainly have served you well in the past, I'm very proud of them."

"You should be." Alex picked up the small case, it contained five American coins. They weren't really coins, they were small bombs, just enough to blow open locks and such. They'd been extremely useful to him in the past and Smithers usually supplied him with them now. "Anything else?"

"No, that's it. Oh, and your usual gun, of course."

Alex couldn't help smiling as he picked up his gun. It was definitely his favourite, light and effective. It hardly made a sound when he pulled the trigger. He'd chosen it when he was eighteen, he'd never been allowed a gun in the four years before that. Of course, he'd had to do weapons training with the SAS when he turned eighteen, but it had been worth it. He hadn't needed to do it, he already knew how to handle weapons thanks to Scorpia.

"Thank you, Mr Smithers." Alex said as he picked up his few items.

"No problem. And Alex.." Smithers looked up at him. "Please be careful. This might seem like a simple mission, but the PFP mean business."

"I'll be fine, I always am. I've probably been in worse situations than they could possibly throw at me. Goodbye." Alex smiled at him before he turned and left the office.

Smithers sat down at his desk, looking at the box marked "AR". He'd always liked Alex Rider, but he'd never thought it had been good of MI6 to throw him into their world. Now Alex was twenty four, he was taller and broader than when they'd first met. He was an attractive young man, and should really be doing something else. He should be out having a normal life, with a pretty girlfriend and lots of friends. MI6 had stolen that chance from Alex, and pushed him into a world where there is little chance of getting out of it. Smithers couldn't help still fretting a little, as if Alex were still just fourteen years old.

Alex arrived at his flat, home at last. His flat was modern, and although he wasn't really home all that often, it was obviously his flat. A photo was magnetised to the fridge, it was of him and Jack. He smiled sadly as he passed it, wondering how Jack Starbright was doing. She'd taken care of him after Ian Rider had died, right up until Alex was eighteen. He'd chosen to move out of his uncle's house then, and told Jack that he was selling the house. He had offered for her to find a flat with him, but he had known she would decline. Jack had moved to Paris two months later, and he'd barely seen her since. He always visited her when he was in France, just to catch up with her. She came over to London to visit him every once in a while. It was nice that through everything, he had kept up his closeness with Jack.

Another photo sat next to it, of Alex and Tom. Tom had been Alex's best mate for eleven years, and even now they maintained this. The photo had been taken three years ago, on Alex's twenty first birthday. They'd gone to visit Jerry, Tom's older brother, and gone parachuting to mark the special occasion. They were in the plane, just before they jumped. They were smiling, their hair absolutely everywhere with the wind. Alex hoped to see Tom soon, he hadn't seen him for at least two months.

Alex moved through his kitchen, putting a bag of shopping that he'd picked up on the way home on the counter. He placed his bag of gadgets on the coffee table in the living room, and sat himself down on the sofa. He knew how he'd spend tonight and how he'd spend tomorrow. He couldn't say he was excited about it, because he wasn't. Tonight would be spent cooking himself some dinner, watching the football game and beginning packing. Tomorrow would be spent finishing packing, double and triple checking he had everything, and then getting to the airport to fly out to New York. Fantastic, he thought gloomily.

After sitting for what seemed like a lifetime, he dragged himself to his feet and moved back into the kitchen to make himself dinner. His life, most would think, should be exciting and never dull. James Bond was an agent, his life was action packed and full of satisfaction. James Bond and his life are fictional, Alex thought bitterly as he threw the pasta into the pan.