AN: set some time after The One Where Alex Gets Kidnapped… AGAIN and before as quiet as a closed mouth.

"Up next," the newscaster is saying, largely ignored by the family in the living room, "A young girl tells the story of how she nearly died after chewing a piece of explosive gum. More on that after a brief word from our sponsors."

That catches Alex's attention. He watches the television for a long time, waiting until the news comes back on, but it's just commercials, so he finally relaxes, turning back to the board game he's playing with John and a reluctant Sherlock. They're both staring at him.

"Christ, Alex," John says, finally. "What the hell did you do?"

"What do you mean?" Alex asks. John points wordlessly at the television as the news returns, a tearful, primary-school girl talking about the gum she chewed, spit out because of the awful taste, and then watched explode in front of her. Alex winces. They've got phone camera footage. "Okay, I'm offended that you think I'm responsible for that. Truly."

John raises his eyebrows and folds his arms over his chest, giving him this Concerned Parent look that is incredibly annoying. Sherlock says, not looking up from the board game (it's really taking too long to play just because Sherlock takes so long to choose his move), "Exploding gum. Wonder where we've seen that before."

Alex glares at him. "That was one time. And totally unrelated to that girl."

Really, he's thinking I knew I lost a piece of that gum. Who the hell chews a stick of gum they find in public?

Someone bangs on the front door, and John clambers to his feet, pointing at Alex and saying, "This conversation is not over."

"Yes, Dad," Alex grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the couch. Sherlock, sitting cross-legged on the floor on the other side of the coffee table, finally moves his piece across the board, beaming when it sends John's almost winning piece all the way back to START. Alex smirks. That's really going to piss John off.

In the foyer, John opens the door, and Lestrade's voice says, "Have you seen the news? Explosive gum? What the bloody hell…? "

"It's not my fault!" Alex snaps, throwing his hands up in the air. God. You use one piece of exploding gum to escape a hostage situation and suddenly you're responsible for all the exploding gum in the damn world.

Lestrade peaks into the room to look at Alex, and says, "I mean, we've only seen this once before… You can't blame us for drawing conclusions."

On the news, the newscaster demands answers from parliament, asking who put such a horrible weapon into the hands of our children and calling for a worldwide ban on gum. It's a little extreme, if you ask Alex. Not that anyone is.

"Like I'm the only person in the world who has ever used explosive chewing gum," Alex says hotly, rising to his feet. "I'm honestly offended that you're accusing me of this. Even you, Lestrade. I thought we were friends."

Lestrade looks appropriately ashamed and guilty, and says, "Well, maybe you just dropped it somewhere… No one is saying you did it on purpose, Alex."

Alex glares. "It's not like I have an endless supply. I used my last piece getting away from Moriarty. Maybe you should be looking into him. He's supposed to be some evil genius, isn't he? Couldn't he have recreated the formula?"

Smooth, Alex. Pin your mistake on the criminal. Someone should give him an award for Best at Bullshitting Your Way Out of Trouble.

"I… I suppose he could have," Lestrade says, slowly. He takes a step back, towards the door, and says, "I'll look into it. Sorry for interrupting your evening. John, Sherlock." He tips his head in goodbye and then slips out of the room.

John looks at Alex, aghast. "I can't believe you're going to pass the blame to Moriarty."

"I can't believe you don't believe me," Alex snaps, putting a hand over his heart like he's hurt. Honestly, he is. He really is.

"Leave him alone, John," Sherlock says, and when they turn to look at him, he looks like he finds the whole thing very, very funny. "No one got hurt either way. Even if it was Alex, it wasn't on purpose."

Alex says, "Thank you, Sherlock, for being the only supportive father I need. Now excuse me, I'm retiring for the evening."

He flees for his room. He's not sure he could keep up the charade any longer.

His phone rings later, an unavailable number flashing on the screen. He almost doesn't answer it, but it might be important.

"Alex," Mrs. Jones' voice greets, smooth as ever.

Alex blinks. "Mrs. Jones. I'd say it's a pleasure to meet you, but I'm afraid that would be a complete lie. Can I ask how you got this number?"

"I have my ways," she replies mysteriously. Alex kind of expected a vague answer, anyways. "Listen, Alex, I'm not calling to ruin your life again. I just wanted to talk to you."

Alex sighs. "I guess you saw the news tonight."

"Who didn't?" Mrs. Jones asks. Alex thinks she's laughing at him. "Just be careful, Alex. You know we can't have anymore mishaps like this. I'd hate to have to confiscate your gadgets." She says the word with great disdain. "As far as I'm concerned, you don't have anymore. Is that clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," Alex says, and rolls his eyes. Then he feels guilty, like she's watching him, and mouths sorry. Just in case.

"Good," Mrs. Jones says, "Have a pleasant evening, Alex."

Then she hangs up. So it's definitely not the worst conversation Alex has ever had with MI6. At least this time there was no blackmail involved.

fin.

Happy Birthday, bitch. Hope 20 is as good 2 u as I am.