Sequel to The King is Dead

Summary: "A contact messaged me with an… interesting prospective mission." Yassen propped himself up on one arm, the sleepy pull of the covers falling away, replaced with curiosity. "Interesting why?" He asked. "Interesting because of who is sanctioning the mission." Alex leaned forward enticingly. "It's MI6." (In the aftermath of his injury, Alex is back on the top of his game. When a few months of freelance work leads him right back to MI6, Alex is faced with a new mission accompanied by a lot of old faces.)

Disclaimer: Alex Rider, his universe, and all associated characters and plot lines belong to Anthony Horowitz. Any recognizable works, references, or quotes are credited to their original creators.

Warnings: Established slash relationship, age gap, strong language, injuries, violence. Further warnings may come later.

Rated: T (subject to change)

Yassen walked purposefully into the upscale hotel, shaking the water droplets from the collar of his coat as he turned it down. The receptionist smiled brightly (in the way all front desk staff do) and handed him the key card he had left on his way out. He never kept anything identifying on him when he was on a mission.

He nodded, business-like to match the character he was playing, and went to the elevator. Usually, he despised elevators, preferring to take the stairs. But a thorough examination of the enclosed space revealed an escape hatch, as well as shock breaks should someone cut the cables. Not that that was likely.

Anyway, even Yassen Gregorovich recognizes that it wouldn't be much fun climbing the stairs to the penthouse.

The elevator dinged, and he stepped out into a small foyer. A single door for the penthouse room stood invitingly in front of him.

Another thing that was unusual for Yassen - booking a penthouse suite. Too high to jump from, too secluded, and often the first place someone would look for a rich man such as himself.

But the building had a strong fire escape and the outer walls were easy enough to scale down. Besides, they had decided a little privacy, a little luxury, would be nice.

He opened the door, and immediately locked his eyes on the balcony. Glass doors ajar, letting a cool breeze in. Drapes fluttering in the wind.

He strode across the room and placed a gentle hand on the door, it opened the rest of the way easily under his light touch.

It was storming outside - rather heavily now. The wind whipped the raindrops into his face, but the figure facing the storm didn't seem to mind the facefulls of water he was receiving.

Yassen stepped forward, wrapping his arms around the waist of the smaller body. Alex relaxed into his hold, leaning against him and covering his hands with smaller, slightly colder ones.

He pressed his lips to soft blond locks, whispering into them, "You should come inside before you catch a cold."

He could feel Alex's smile, even if he couldn't see it. "Any other reason I should come inside?" Alex asked.

"Oh, I'm sure I can come up with a few…" he let his hands trail down, over Alex's hips until he felt the rough fabric of jeans beneath his fingertips.

Alex hummed in response, turning in his hold to give Yassen a kiss. Yassen's hands slipped into the back pockets of Alex jeans, while Alex's hands tugged at his business jacket, expertly freeing it from broad shoulders and tossing it into the room through open balcony doors.

Yassen pulled Alex forward, leading him back into the hotel room, and down onto the king sized bed. The balcony doors were left open, and the storm blew uninhibited into the penthouse room.

The next morning, Yassen woke cold. The storm had cooled the room, and the space next to him was vacant. He opened his eyes, spotting Alex reclined on the sofa near the still ajar balcony doors. Ruffled hair billowing in the breeze, fanning out like a golden halo.

Alex had his laptop out, typing away with a series of small, clicking noises. The sound was rhythmic and almost lulled Yassen back to sleep. Then, Alex must have sensed Yassen's eyes on him; he looked up, smiling.

"Morning sunshine," Alex whispered softly into the silent room.

Yassen tilted his head, looking out the glass doors to the storm clouds that still hovered, threatening to break. Instead of commenting, he nodded at the laptop.

"Work?" He inquired.

Alex nodded, returning to his rapid typing.

"A contact messaged me with an… interesting prospective mission."

He propped himself up on one arm, the sleepy pull of the covers falling away, replaced with curiosity. "Interesting why?"

"Interesting because of who is sanctioning the mission." Alex leaned forward enticingly. "It's MI6."

Yassen felt his eyes widen fractionally. Before he had made the conscious decision to, he was sliding out of bed and crossing the room. He grabbed the laptop without asking, casting his eyes over the screen.

"Do they know-"

"That it's me?" Alex interrupted. "No, I don't think so."

Yassen examined the screen. The email had been routed through a dozen countries, but Yassen knew it originated in England. In fact, it had originated in a very specific house in London, in Chelsea, on Cheyne Walk.

After MI6 had burned Alex, repossessing his assets, Yassen had looked into getting what he could without them knowing. There was little he could do without them becoming aware, but he did his best. Alex's money was a lost cause, but his house? Yassen thought he could at least keep that close.

He knew '6 wouldn't sell Alex's house, not to just anyone. Ian Rider had turned the house into a fortress, it was a useful asset to keep in their arsenal.

They ended up turning the house into a kind of safe house, similar to American witness protection. Yassen had hacked MI6 records, and made sure that the 'witness' was someone he could use. Someone on his side.

He had been in luck that MI6 had caught one of his old Scorpia contacts. Callum Gates was an old operative. He used to find customers for Scorpia - or more accurately, found Scorpia for the people begging to be customers. That was at the height of their power. He knew a lot about many of Scorpia's old clients, and future clients as well. MI6 had promised protection in exchange for names. Officially, at least.

Unofficially, the reason that Gates was being protected was because MI6 wasn't perfect. Sometimes, they needed outside help. Sometimes, that help needed to come from the bad guys. So, Gates was alive so that he could find disposable bad guys for hire when MI6 needed them. Apparently, they needed them now.

Apparently, they needed Alex. Again. They just didn't realize it.

"Are you going to take the mission?" Yassen asked.

Alex was only just getting into the game on this side of things. He had gained a name faster than Yassen had expected. He was starting to get a reputation. Probably because he was so young.

It was rare that an operative emerged - already highly skilled and experienced - at such a young age. MI6 had seen the use in Alex's age when he was just fourteen, and the rest of the criminal world saw it as well, even with a few more years tagged on.

No one had seemed to put two and two together, connecting Alex to this unknown young operative. Alex was careful never to meet in person with anyone who could possibly identify him. Those that he couldn't help but come into contact with, he met in disguise. Or Yassen went as an official liaison.

"Maybe," Alex answered, repossessing the laptop. "It would be suspicious if I didn't, don't you think?"

If MI6 didn't know that this new player was really Alex, if they thought this was an isolated incident, then yes, it would be suspicious of Alex to refuse the mission. After all, Alex had accepted nearly every mission he had been offered. Had accepted every mission offered by an intelligence organization, fullstop.

In fact, that is most likely how MI6 had found out. Alex had worked with the CIA just last week. Yassen is sure that Joe Byrne would have been bursting with excitement to let MI6 know that there could be a replacement for the young spy they had lost.

Despite how suspicious it would seem for Alex to refuse, a part of him still wanted Alex to take that route. Byrne and Jones weren't idiots. Maybe they didn't see the connection between this new operative and their old one, they probably didn't even consider it a possibility, but it was tempting fate for Alex to play so close to them.

"I don't think you should do it."

Alex frowned, not surprised by Yassen's opinion, but he also didn't look like he agreed.

"Alex…" he used an admonishing tone, the kind of tone someone would use to scold a naughty child, instantly realizing that was a mistake. He knew it would drive Alex crazy.

It wasn't something Alex was well acquainted with. People had treated him like an adult for most of his life, and being treated his age was a novel and not entirely welcome experience. Alex turned a sharp, icy glare on him. (Yassen liked to think Alex learned that expression from him.)

Alex clenched his teeth, and Yassen swore he could hear the grind of enamel.

"I'm going to take it."