A.N. Firstly, I want to dedicate this story to MLM24, who reviewed The Truth Will Out and led to me getting this idea. Thanks :)

This can be read as a standalone, but if you've read TTWO, the ending might mean more to you, which is why I'm calling it a companion story. It ought to make sense on its own, though.

Finally, I'll probably change the covers eventually for both fics, so don't be confused if my flower isn't there.

Disclaimer: I'm disclaiming the Alex Rider franchise. There. Happy?

Jane Bedfordshire took the dog out at the usual time on Saturday morning to St James park. It was unusually dry for March, overcast but not raining, and as peaceful as London ever got. Until, that was, the unmistakeable sound of gunshots rang out, accompanied by screams and clattering hooves.

Startled, she whipped around and stared. Three riders were streaking across the grass towards her, away from Buckingham Palace. Two held handguns and were shooting at the third, who seemed to be dressed in the uniform of the palace servants, albeit a burnt, bloodied one. He was ducked low over the horse's neck and swerved sharply to avoid the bullets.

Just as he passed by her, he suddenly twisted in the saddle and pointed, of all things, an umbrella at his pursuers, and the next thing she knew, one of them fell sideways, a dart in his neck. That done, the young man - for he couldn't be older than in his early twenties - cast the thing aside and quickly veered the other way. But he wasn't fast enough. The other gunman had taken advantage of his distraction and a shot had grazed his arm. Miss Bedfordshire felt slightly nauseous seeing the blood dripping crimson, but the man didn't even cry out.

He looked round at the attacker, looking death in the eye as the pistol was levelled at his forehead. Jane thought it was up for him for a heartstopping moment. But at the last second, he flung himself sideways out of the saddle and rolled to his feet, taking his pursuer by surprise. Before the man could react, he had come alongside and was tackled and knocked to the ground. They wrestled for the gun, with it accidentally going off several times, bullets missing them only by a minor miracle.

It was over very quickly. The situation with the gun was still at an impasse, when the younger man reached out and knocked the other out with a swift punch to the temples. He lay back, breathing heavily.

Miss Bedfordshire only hesitated for a moment before her motherly instinct kicked in and she hurried over to him and helped him up. He had dark brown hair and looked about twenty two.

"That was extraordinary, young man! But you're hurt - let me take you to the hospital. I'm Jane Bedfordshire, by the way."

His eyes flicked up to hers and for an unguarded moment the shock was plainly visible, though he covered it quickly.

"No," he said firmly. "There'll be more after me soon. I can't go back to the palace either."

"Who are they?"

He hesitated, then shrugged, deciding that he may as well tell her. "Extreme group of Republicans. They planted a bomb in Buckingham."

"What?" Jane squeaked. "We must tell somebody."

"It's been sorted - there's no chance of it going off now." He smirked a bit.

"So what now?"

"I have to make a call, tell someone to pick these two up. Then I need to change my appearance and get this arm sorted before their group finds me."

"My place isn't far from here. You're welcome to use the facilities."

"Thanks, that would be handy." He pulled out a sleek black phone and walked away so Miss Bedfordshire only caught a few phrases.

"...two of them. Unconscious in St James park. I'm going to tie them up and leave them for you to find… No, I need to get out of here… Tell Smithers his umbrella worked perfectly. Needs more shots though… wash out the dye…"

He ended the call and drew out a thin but strong cord with which he bound the two unconscious men and ripped a strip from the bottom of his shirt to stem the bleeding of the gash in his arm, before turning his eyes to Miss Bedfordshire.

"Come on, then," she said awkwardly, and started leading the way to her flat. Inside, the man, previously so calm and professional, took on an air of discomfort and when she looked at him, she felt for the first time that she'd seen him somewhere before. Shaking herself, she returned to the matter in hand.

"What do you need?"

"A shower and a first-aid kit would be great."

"Of course. But I still think you should visit the hospital."

He didn't answer, just held her gaze in a way that let her know that it wasn't an option.

"Very well. You can borrow some old clothes my brother left here last time he stayed."

She showed him to the bathroom while she searched for bandages. When he emerged, his hair was several shades lighter and he looked younger in trousers a size too big. A hand was clamped over the wound in his arm, which was running bright red again after being in the water, and he hadn't been able put the t-shirt on, displaying a motley collection of scars, which attracted Miss Bedfordshire's horrified attention first before she lifted her gaze to take in his face.

"Alex… Alex Rider?" she whispered, scarcely daring to believe it, but suddenly it all made sense. Even if the truth were as unbelievable as any of the crazy rumours she had heard.

He closed his eyes briefly in displeasure, before an ironic smile twisted his lips.

"Miss Bedfordshire. Long time no see."

"I thought… Didn't you move to America?"

"Yes, I spent a couple of years there. It was nice, but what can I say? I can't stay away from trouble."

"Why were you… they…"

From her incoherent gabbling, Alex managed to guess, correctly, that she was asking about the horse chase. He contemplated her for a moment and settled on the truth.

"I work for the government. I'm a spy."

"But you're only…" She did the maths quickly. "...only nineteen. Has this been going on since your uncle died?"

"Yes. They used me then because I could go places adults can't. They use me now because I'm good."

From anyone else, that might have sounded like bragging. But the way he said it was matter-of-fact and she didn't doubt for a moment that it was anything but the truth.

Alex cleared his throat pointedly and looked at the bandages in her hands.

"Oh, of course." She made him perch on the arm of the sofa while she tended to the wound. Another awkward silence ensued until she finished. They washed the blood from their hands and she felt somewhat relieved when he pulled the shirt on and hid most of his scars.

"I need to speak to my employers," he started. "And I'm sorry, but you'll have to come too. They'll want you to sign the Official Secrets Act. You can't tell anyone about this."

"I won't," she promised.

They took the tube to Liverpool Street and Alex led the way to the Royal and General.

"A bank? What are we doing here?" asked Miss Bedfordshire in confusion.

He glanced sideways at her. "This comes under what you can't tell anyone," he said cryptically.

They took the lift upstairs and were admitted at once into Mrs Jones' office.

"Ah, Alex. I'm glad to see you safely back. Congratulations on your success. But you haven't introduced me to your companion."

Jane shifted uncomfortably, but Alex was perfectly calm as he replied.

"This is Miss Bedfordshire. She witnessed the chase, and let me use her facilities afterwards. Incidentally, she's also my old school secretary. I brought her here to sign the OSA. Have you collected the two Republicans?"

"Yes; there were no problems. Agent Daniels led the clean-up team as he's off active duty. He should be here in - ah, speak of the devil!"

A man in his late twenties entered the room, blue eyes lighting up as he caught sight of the younger spy.

"Alex!" He pulled the boy into a tight hug.

"Ow, Ben, mind my arm!"

"Sorry!" Ben Daniels lept back and held him at arm's length to examine him. "What happened to you? There's all sorts of rumours going round the office. Did you really tackle a man and knock him off his horse?"

"He did," Miss Bedfordshire confirmed. With this man there she found it easier to think of Alex as a teenager.

Ben glanced at her curiously, then at Mrs Jones, an unspoken query in his eyes.

"This is Alex's old school secretary. She's found out about his… occupation. Could you take her to fill out the necessary paperwork?"

"Of course. Follow me, ma'am." He pulled Alex into another quick hug, gentler this time, and ruffled his hair - earning a mock pout from the boy - before releasing him and turning to leave.

She allowed herself to be led to a smaller office and was given a seat, a pen and a copy of the OSA. He took her through it, and when she finally set the pen down, they didn't move immediately.

"How do you know Alex? You seem close," she asked the agent.

"I'd had dealings with him before - we went on a mission together - and when he returned to England at age seventeen, I volunteered to be his guardian until he reached adulthood. We still live together."

"You must hate knowing what he does."

"I do. But it's his choice, and it's the same one I made." He shrugged wearily. "I can't stop him, but I can be there to make sure he gets looked after between missions. It's the best I can do, and I'll continue to do for as long as he lets me."

Many years later, Miss Bedfordshire tore her eyes sadly from the news. Alex Rider had finally met his end, but now the world knew what he had done. She got up to answer the ringing phone.

"Oh, hello, Mr Grey." The teacher from Brookland Comprehensive had clearly seen it too. "Yes, I quite agree. He really was extraordinary…"

A.N. And there you have it. Please, please review and give me your opinions and suggestions. It always means a lot to know that you care enough to tell me, whatever your opinion. And point out any mistakes, however small, so I can change it and make it better.