And here it is. The final instalment of An Object Lesson. (twinkles away a tear) My goodness, it's finally over.
I was going to split this into two bits, so I wouldn't have to end it on lucky 13 - 14's me lucky number, y'see :D - but then I couldn't be bothered, so you got a lump sum. As it were.
This is dedicated to my dear and wonderful friend Von, because - well, because she's dear and wonderful, of course (grin) - but also because it's her birthday!! (confetti shower) (sings) happy BIRTHDAY dear Vo-o-n... happy birthday to you!!
Ahem.
Right... enjoy the last chapter, folks!!
DISCLAIMER: They're holding out pretty well, over there at Walker Books - but I'll wear them down in the end, you see if I don't!
...maybe?
"How much karate have you done, Mr. Rider?" the instructor asked, face neutral as he looked at Alex.
Alex paused, glancing at Wolf. "I've been learning since I was six." He said, slowly. "Do you need to know my grade?"
"That would be helpful, thank you."
"Second Dan." He glanced at Wolf. "But it doesn't often help me when I'm up against someone bigger than me. If they're expecting an attack, there's often not a lot that I can do."
The instructor nodded, giving him a sharp, considering look. "We can rectify that." He nodded. "Judo is particularly useful for smaller fighters." He turned to Wolf. "And you?"
"Same Dan as Alex." He said, quietly. "Plus the techniques we were taught in the SAS."
"Can you teach those to Alex?"
Wolf didn't even need to glance at his partner first. "Yes." He said, without hesitation.
"That would be helpful then." The man looked them both over. "I think…" he paused. "You'll both benefit from learning some Judo; and it would be useful for you to learn how to fight as a team, rather than against each other. When are your usual classes?"
"Mine are on Mondays, eight till nine." Wolf said, casually. "But I can't often go, so it doesn't really matter, for me."
"Fridays, eight till nine." Alex shrugged. "I don't think my teacher would be surprised if I didn't turn up – last six months, I've hardly been there at all – but I'd like to go if I still can."
The instructor – who had introduced himself as 'Phil', with a look that promised retribution if they even thought of calling him anything other than 'sir' – nodded. "Go when you can; extra practice is always good." He paused, thinking. "Fine. I can schedule a two sets of individual lessons for you; one, for you to start learning Judo, the other simply for practice. I think it would be useful for you to come to one of the 'open' sessions, to get some practice fighting as a team before you're put in the field."
Wolf nodded seriously, and Alex followed his lead. "So, when are these 'open' sessions?"
"The next one is tomorrow, at six. If you can't make that one, the one after will be Friday, at seven. I'll have someone send you a message about your private sessions." He all but turned away, the dismissal obvious in his voice.
"Thank you." Wolf nodded, perfunctorily at him, and led the way out of the room.
"Pompous git." Alex muttered, when they were in the elevator.
"Respect, Cub."
"Needs to be earned, Wolf."
"You have real issues with authority, you know that?"
"It's been said." Alex agreed, dryly. There was a long pause. Finally, Alex broke it, saying, "When – or what – is our next lesson?"
Wolf glanced at him as the lift came to a stop. "It's tomorrow, Cub."
"Right. What is it? And what time is it?"
"Why don't you know already?"
"Because I've had other things to do, like, go and have someone poke through my head and tell me that I have 'deep seated self-worth issues', and suchlike. Oh, and I have homework to be doing."
Wolf shook his head. "I should have known that, I guess." He sighed. "Y'know, sometimes, it's far too easy to forget that you're not an adult. We have rifle shooting tomorrow, at four thirty. And then, I guess, one of these 'open sessions' for martial arts, at six."
Alex grinned, suddenly. "You still going to be in school?"
"Yes." He was just a few notches off 'petulant'. "Not as a bodyguard anymore, it's for 'bonding', or some shit like that." He shrugged. "Only 'bonding' I can do with you while you're in school is helping you with your homework. And I am not doing those crappy worksheets with you. I'm your partner, not your parent."
"Sure." Alex grinned. "You could always ask the teachers if you could help out with their lessons. I mean – did you get a degree? Or, d'you have any particular skill area, apart from – well, killing people?"
Wolf glared down at him, pressing the button to call the lift. "Of course I have skill areas." He said, firmly.
"Like what?" Alex pressed, interested.
"I took Chemistry with French at Aberdeen." He told him, voice quelling.
"Excellent!" Alex said, cheerfully.
Wolf took a few moments to think this response over, and said, warily, "Cub, what're you planning?"
Alex just grinned at him as the lift arrived on the ground floor. "Nothing!" he flung over his shoulder. "See you tomorrow!"
When Wolf arrived at school the next morning, and located his partner – he'd been given a copy of Alex's timetable, so it hadn't exactly been hard – he found that things had changed.
Alex's first class – French – generally passed easily enough for him; he would sit there, reading something like a text on new nerve poisons, or stealth planes, or something equally fascinating and masculine, and making notes in the notebook he carried round with him, while Alex suffered through the class. He had noticed that his partner found both French and Spanish ridiculously easy, but that was the sum total of his involvement with the class.
Today, however, Alex was waiting for him, expression smug. Wolf had time to give him one glance, before the teacher was talking to him.
"Mr. Alvarez…" she began, using the false name the teachers had been given for him, both to protect his identity and to get him used to answering to a different name, "Alex tells me that you took a degree in French?"
Wolf paused, before saying, reluctantly, "Yes…?"
The teacher – a kindly middle-aged lady with a will of iron, Miss Black – beamed at him. "Then, I was wondering. It's so difficult to give the children any real oral practice, and they've got their end of year exams coming up – how would you feel about taking a few of them off at a time, for some practice?"
One of the other little brats smothered a laugh. "I'm sure he's brilliant at oral – practice. Army, y'know, and all that…" He whispered, just loud enough that Wolf heard him. A couple of the other kids laughed, but most of the class was too busy being watching Wolf nervously to even think about it.
Wolf glared at him, and noted, with a faint hint of pride, that the boy suddenly looked nervous. Smoothing his face, he gave Miss Black a taut smile, and nodded. "I'd be delighted to help." He said, and gave Alex a look which promised retribution. Unlike the other boy, his partner just grinned back at him.
At the end of the lesson, Wolf made a beeline for Alex, easily cutting through the other students. Grabbing his arm, he growled, sounding more annoyed that he actually was, "What the hell was that about, Cub?"
Alex grinned irreverently up at him. "Well, I'm sure you were beginning to get bored, sat at the back of my classes… I was just – livening things up a bit for you."
"I didn't need livening up!" Wolf said, in a piercing hiss.
"Well, it was to help out with this bonding we're supposed to be doing." He paused, then added, casually, "You do realise that we're getting an audience, don't you?" Wolf gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to strangle him. "And you're going to make me late for History." He paused. "Don't you have to go liaise with someone about security?"
Wolf let him go with a grimace which promised pay-back at some not-so-distant moment, and glowered at the other kids who were staring at them. He heard, with some satisfaction, Alex being ambushed with questions as he made his – unimpeded – way down the corridor.
After History – one of the few classes which Alex had without Wolf – Alex made his way through Latin, fending off questions in the corridors between classes, and trying not to say anything that he knew he wasn't allowed to. Somehow, when he said that something was classified, no one paid attention. Wolf never seemed to have that problem.
He made sure that he headed to Spanish a little bit before the end of break, in order to have a quick word with his teacher. After all, Wolf spoke fluent Spanish, as well as French – and there was no reason why one teacher should benefit from an impromptu teaching aide when another didn't.
Wolf knew the moment he got to the classroom that his partner had planned something. He was early – intentionally so, as he wasn't supposed to be drawing any more attention to himself than was necessary – and normally it would have been just him and the teacher. But Cub was there, grinning smugly, and he just knew that the little brat had something planned.
"Cub, what are you…" he began, before the bell went, and students started trickling into the classroom, and the teacher called him over.
"Mr. Alvarez, Alex tells me that you are a native Spanish speaker?" she smiled, rather awkwardly. "I suppose your name should have given it away, but there are so many naturalised Spanish people living in England, that I rather assumed…"
Wolf sent a glare at Alex, who shrugged as if to say, 'who, me?', and turned back to the teacher. "Yes, that's right." He said, deliberately laconic, all too aware of all the other kids staring at them – those who weren't pestering Alex with questions. It was truly amazing how now, even after a fortnight or so, the interest in Alex – and, to a lesser degree, himself – hadn't died down at all.
"Well, the thing is, Mr. Alvarez, I was rather wondering – you see, because Spanish isn't available for students in here until the year before they start preparing for the GCSEs, they don't get to hear much… and so, I was just wondering if you wouldn't mind just – talking to the class in Spanish. Just to get them used to hearing it. If you don't mind, of course…?"
She was beginning to babble, and Wolf was torn. He couldn't, in all politeness, refuse such a simple request, but the urge to do so was almost overwhelming. "Very well." He nodded, rather tersely. "Is there any particular topic you would like me to talk about?"
She shook her head, quickly. "No, not at all! Just – anything. Things you would talk about every day."
Wolf gave her a slightly resigned look, watching as her eyes went wide as she realised what she had just left the class open to – but by the time she had thought to give him a set topic, he had already started speaking.
"When trying to enter a guarded building, there are two methods which can be followed," he began, in rapid Spanish. Alex glanced quickly around the classroom; Wolf had lost nearly half the class by the time he got to 'guarded'. "Firstly, of course, reconnaissance must be done; and, depending on how well armed the enemy is, and how many men they have, storming the building is often the most successful." Alex frowned a little at that. "It has the benefit of not only being quick, it is also a decisive move…"
"Which gets people needlessly killed and draws unnecessary attention to yourself." He broke in, also in Spanish, in scant deference to his teacher.
"Not if you're numerically superior to your opponent – and if you're SAS." Wolf pointed out with a frown.
"It still puts people in unnecessary danger. I suppose that's the method favoured by the SAS?" he added, sarcastically, watching with faint interest as Wolf's frown darkened. "What's this other method, then?"
"The Trojan Horse method. More risk, less certainty, smaller initial force – greater likelihood of initial failure, and therefore failure of the whole mission.."
"If your insiders have been properly briefed, there should be no chance of failure – and, if it does pull off, you've got more intel, and therefore better means to implement the surprise of your attack."
"Surprise isn't always useful, Alex. Most of these people are such jumpy bastards, they've planned against every eventuality, and they're not going to be taken in by anything."
The teacher looked like she was half-way to fainting, and the class was buzzing around the pair of them, though neither of them had noticed, completely focussed as they were on their half-private argument. Between them, all of the other students were picking up small snippets of the 'conversation', putting two and two together, and coming up with five.
"Oh, and brute force is so useful." Alex said, half-sarcastic, half-earnest, leaning forwards, determined to prove his point to Wolf. "And people can always be taken in by something; the lie just has to be good enough." His teacher choked a little on that. "Really, think about it for a second. You send maybe three to five people into this building, under the guise of maintenance workers, or government officials – not only can they scope out the place, but they can get rid of any alarm system, and, if they're lucky, they can get the doors open, or at least weaken their defences, to get the rest of the force in."
"Most of the people we're dealing with aren't going to be taken in by a uniform and a fake ID, Alex."
"So plan ahead. Your plan of doing a little bit of recon and then storming in leaves too many dead."
The classroom definitely started buzzing at that.
"Um, I think that might be enough…" the teacher tried rather weakly, but neither of them were listening.
"That depends how well trained your force is…" Wolf argued.
"Not much good if your enemy is as well trained as you are." Alex pointed out, acidly. "What if you were fighting Scorpia, heh?"
"Scorpia certainly aren't going to be taken in by the Trojan Horse method."
"Not if it's badly planned, no; but if Scorpia is your target, then you've probably been planning the assault for a while, no?" Alex pointed out, calmly.
"It's a fair point, but, for the most part, you're not attacking an organisation like Scorpia. With the SAS, you're dealing with some tough bastards, yes," The teacher let out a little squeak, "But, most of the time, it's easier and less time consuming just to implement a full on attack. Recon, yes – but it doesn't need all that detailed planning your method would need." Seeing that Alex was still looking sceptical, Wolf grabbed a piece of chalk, and drew a quick sketch on the board, "Look, Cub – if you're attacking a building that has and exit, say, here," he scribbled a quick 'door' on the rough sketch, "And here… All you need to do is fix a perimeter so that no one escapes, and send in a double pronged attack, thus splitting their forces…"
"And splitting yours…"
"I think that's enough now, thank you!" The teacher said, quickly, and rather shrilly, giving Alex a sharp, disapproving glance. He gave her a blank, innocent look in return, then met Wolf's equally sharp look.
"We'll finish this later." The older man said, firmly.
Alex returned the look squarely. "Damn right we will."
The teacher gave a nervous little laugh, and half-shooed Wolf away, saying, quickly, "Thank you. Maybe tomorrow, I could give you a more – well, a less… volatile subject to talk about? Like, your family?"
He nodded gravely, and the lesson continued. Afterwards, though, Alex was surrounded by people asking him about why he and Wolf had been talking about 'the best way to kill people' in the middle of a Spanish lesson.
The first few people, he attempted to set straight about what they had really been talking about; but he soon realised that no one was that interested in the truth, and let them believe what they wanted to.
Wolf, however, appeared maybe a minute later, having stayed behind momentarily to talk to the teacher, and he glowered silently over Alex's shoulder. That soon dispersed the little crowd around him; but Alex was aware of the still-rather-awed glances following him.
"God, Cub." Wolf said, shaking his head. "Could you try and persuade your fan club to be a little less rabid?"
Alex sighed, and ignored the question. "We've got Biology." He told the man.
"No, you've got Biology." Wolf pointed out. "I have a chance to plot my revenge."
"Terrified, I'm sure." Alex shot back, tartly, just as Tom appeared next to him.
"OK, Alex?" he asked, with his quick, easy grin.
"Yeah." He grinned back. "Roping Wolf into all of my lessons; it's fun."
"For him." Wolf muttered, darkly.
"Today, class, we're going to continue with our theme of the human body. For this lesson, we're going to finish of our work on the skeletal structure, and maybe start on the Nervous System, or the muscles, if we get the chance… Oh, and please remember that I'm going to be away as from tomorrow, and this class will be taken by a substitute teacher until this time next week."
Alex was only half listening to the teacher, watching with interest as Wolf, next to him at the back of the classroom, scribbled something down on his ever-present notebook. Finally, the man ripped the piece of paper off, and handed it surreptitiously to Alex.
"You should pay attention in biology – especially about the Nervous System. Good for finding out pressure points."
Alex frowned, and scribbled back, "It's easier to pay attention when you're not passing notes to me; if I get into trouble because of this, I'm blaming you." he paused, then added, "And why pressure points?"
Wolf read it through, and frowned. "You're not going to get caught – if we are, I'll buy you a burger. And pressure points're useful if you need to get information out of someone in a hurry – didn't MI6 teach you that?"
"Obviously not." He wrote back, the sarcasm obvious, even from his scrawled note.
Wolf started on a new sheet of paper, and Alex watched as his partner outlined the best way to get information out of somebody quickly, generally by brute force, with a quick postscript added that 'these were techniques the SAS used sometimes, and he would teach Alex later'.
Reading through the list, unable to get the grin off his face from the sheer surrealism of the situation, he couldn't help but hope that there weren't going to be any practical demonstrations in his 'lessons'.
"Mr. Rider," His biology teacher, Mr. Martins, said sharply, and he looked up quickly, smoothing his face into innocence, "Would you care to share with the class exactly what you find so amusing?"
Alex paused, glancing down at the piece of paper and then back up at his teacher. "Alright then." He shrugged, and next to him, Wolf groaned a little. "Firstly, Wolf, you owe me a burger," Mr. Martin's eyebrows raised, "And – well. 'The best way to get information from somebody quickly depends on three things. One, what equipment you've got – where you are, and so on. Two, how much stronger they are than you. Three, how much time you have to get the information." His teacher's eyebrows now seemed to be in pitched battle with his hair line, "One of quickest and easiest ways to get your point across in a hurry is to slam a guy's hand in the nearest set of drawers. Hurts way more than it looks and they'll do pretty much anything to make sure it doesn't happen again; and it gets across the idea that you're serious like nobod-"
"Yes, thank you, Alex." His teacher said, sharply.
Half the class were giggling quietly as he read the note out, voice calm and casual, and the other half was staring at him, wide eyed and horrified. His teacher was simply looking disapproving, and Wolf, next to him, was practicing his death-glare. Tom was grinning widely, and, as he sat down, whispered,
"You get such interesting mail, Alex."
"Mr. Harris, that's quite enough from you." Mr. Martins said, firmly. "You, Mr. Rider, will write me a side on why you should pay attention in Biology."
Alex shot Wolf a look, and was hard-pressed to suppress his grin as he nodded, penitently.
The lesson was over quickly enough, and, after giving them their homework, and reminding them about the substitute teacher once more, Martins let them go to lunch. Alex was pestered with questions, still – he, like Wolf, had been hoping that all the interest would have started to die down a little by now, but, apparently, the novelty hadn't worn off.
One of the girls in the top year, one of the beautiful-but-arrogant girls, even asked Wolf whether he had a girlfriend, with much giggling and blushing and looking over at her friends on another table. Wolf himself had simply raised an eyebrow at her, skewered her with a piercing stare that went on for several seconds longer than was comfortable, and said, voice calm and very, very cool,
"If you want some little idiot who'll hold your hand, go and find a child your own age." He shrugged, dismissively. "I don't date arrogant little girls."
The girl had stared at him for a couple of seconds, eyes wide and shocked, face slowly flushing. Then, she fled back to her friends, lip trembling ominously.
Alex raised his eyebrow at the other man, shaking his head. Wolf himself shrugged again.
"What? She's the one who made an idiot out of herself."
The day, after that, passed relatively normally – or, normal for the way they'd come to expect schooldays to go. At four o'clock, Alex bid Tom a quick goodbye, and headed, with Wolf, to the 'Bank's' training facility, just off Hyde Park, for some marksmanship practice.
Though there were some sound-proofed firing ranges in the basement of the bank – mainly for assessment purposes, and the occasional practice, for those high-ranked enough to be given clearance – and they kept guns down there, the main training and practice facilities were in the large, nondescript building off Hyde Park, which had space for almost everything they needed. There was a gym, an Olympic-sized swimming pool, a couple of dojos and various other facilities. The first time Alex had come here, about a week and a half ago, he had been torn between 'intimidated' and 'amazed'.
Now, he and Wolf headed down through to one of the ranges which had been reserved for them, where, they were told on entering, that the 'teacher' was waiting for them.
"Nick!" Alex exclaimed, surprised, on seeing the man waiting for them at the range.
The blond man smiled at him, giving Wolf a quick, considering glance. "Alex." He held out a hand, which Alex shook. "I don't suppose you brought that gun I gave you?"
Alex shook his head, ruefully. "I've, er…" he flushed a little. "I've just come from school – I couldn't risk taking it back in, you know?"
"Right, of course." Nick smiled at him, reassuringly. "Don't worry about it." He grinned. "I tell you, accounting for it was bloody difficult."
"Yeah." Alex nodded, awkwardly. "I'm sorry…"
"Don't worry." Nick shrugged it off.
"Alex." Wolf's voice was a little taut. "Care to introduce me?"
Alex shook himself mentally and nodded. "Yeah – sorry, Wolf. Wolf, this is Nick Martins. Nick, this is Wolf – er… James san Luca."
"Tim has told me about you." Nick nodded, holding his hand out to Wolf, expression markedly less warm than it had been a second ago.
"Tim?"
"Tim Smithers. Head of Q Section at MI6." Alex told him, quickly, and Wolf nodded.
"You are green, aren't you?" Nick said, off-handedly, and turned away before Wolf had a chance to reply. Out of the corner of his eye, Alex saw his partner grit his teeth and take a deep, calming breath.
When Nick turned around, he was holding two shotguns. "I assume you both know how to use these?" he looked at Alex. "You'll probably mostly be sticking with handguns, but you'll need to know how to use these. I'm always being told that you lot need to be prepared for everything." He ended with a smile that didn't quite include Wolf.
Ignoring the tension between the two men, Alex nodded, and Nick got down to the more serious task of starting their practice, explaining what he wanted them to do each time, and telling both of them in no very uncertain terms that this was as much an assessment as anything else.
"I still can't believe that." Wolf said, but he was grinning a little as he said it, as they walked away from the training facility, a whole three hours later.
"Just because you don't like being beaten by a kid." Alex retorted, without heat, and Wolf shrugged, easily.
"Can you blame me? I mean, shit, Alex, I'm SAS, and I just got beaten at sharp shooting by a fourteen year old. It's a blow to my pride."
"I bet it is." Alex said, with a quick grin of his own. "But – I was trained by Scorpia, y'know? I did… I kinda had to be good. That's what they were teaching me to do; shoot to kill. You only get one shot, and – all that crap."
They walked in silence for a couple of minutes.
"Hey, Cub… fancy that burger I owe you?" Wolf asked, lazily.
Alex shook his head, ruefully. "Can't." he told him, voice tinged a little with regret. "I've got homework, and Jack would kill me." He paused. "You could come to mine for supper, Jack always cooks too much." He grinned. "Plus, I kind of owe you, for all that stuff I pulled today."
Wolf mock-frowned. "Damn straight." He rolled his shoulders, stretching out the muscles in his back, and thinking for a couple of seconds. "I might take you up on that. Has that American bloke – Walter, or whatever – is he still there?"
"Walker?" Alex shook his head. "No, he left." He grinned. "Why, was Wolfie scared of the big bad American?"
Wolf cuffed him round the head, absently. "Shut it, Cub."
"He did leave Jack his number, though… so, if you wanted to talk to him that badly…"
The cuff was a little harder the next time.
Wolf ate with them that night, but left shortly after helping with the washing up, when Alex said, regretfully, that he needed to do his homework for tomorrow.
Jack had been almost complimentary about him, saying, rather grudgingly, that he did at least have good manners 'when he chose to use them'. Alex, who recognised all too well the signs of the beginnings of one of his friend-come-guardian's crushes, smiled softly, and suggested that she ring Walker. Jack threw a sofa cushion at him.
When Wolf met Alex the next morning, he frowned a little on seeing his partner looking so washed out and tired.
"Bad night?"
"Lot of homework." Alex sighed, dragging a hand over his face. "I was up kind of late."
"How late?"
Alex shrugged. "Till about – two?"
"You're insane, Cub."
"Well, it's not like I can do it any other time, is it?" he sighed. "I just – I had to get it done, y'know? Otherwise it'll just build up and up and up…"
Tom bounced up to them, face enthusiastic. "Alex!" he grinned. "How're you?"
"Knackered, thanks, you?" he paused. "Actually, have you done the Biology homework?"
Tom gave him a look of undiluted scorn. "Don't be thick, we've got a sub. teacher. Why bother?"
Alex groaned. "Bugger. I knew there was a reason I didn't have to do it!"
Wolf was on tenterhooks by the time the first lesson – Chemistry – started. He'd managed to lose sight of Alex beforehand, and he just knew that the kid was going to have got him somehow roped into this lesson, just as he had with Spanish and French and – inadvertently, admittedly – Biology the day before. Sure enough, when he appeared in the classroom as the bell rang, the teacher, a thin, rather sour-faced woman, gave him terse smile, and said,
"Mr. Alvarez. Rider tells me that you have a Chemistry degree?" Wolf nodded, and managed not to send the evil eye Alex's way. The teacher frowned. "That can't have been much use in your chosen line of work. What use did you have for your skills in the army?"
Wolf shrugged. "Oh, we used them to kill people, mostly." He said, easily.
The teacher didn't even flinch. "Oh, really?" Wolf nodded. "Would you care to demonstrate?"
Afterwards, Wolf would never know what made him say it, but his mouth – apparently going it solo – said, calmly. "Is there anyone in particular you'd like killed?"
The thin lips twitched a little. "It's far too long a list to get through in this lesson. I was thinking more in abstract, if you wouldn't mind."
He paused. "Are you sure it's a wise idea to teach fourteen year olds how to make bombs?"
Her eyes lingered on Alex for a couple of seconds – he returned her gaze calmly, if rather curiously. "Apparently, there's at least one fourteen year old in the room who needs to know."
Wolf inclined his head a little in agreement. "True." He said, carefully. "Maybe – maybe I could just teach him, and he could demonstrate to the class, to prove that he's taken it in?"
She shook her head. "If Rider is going to waste a lesson, the rest of his classmates may as well do the same." She said, rather tartly.
Wolf nodded, slowly. "Alright, then…" he paused. "A smoke bomb might be the least dangerous to demonstrate."
"The stage is yours." She told him, expression ironical.
"Oh, thank you." he muttered. Going to the front bench, he searched for the right ingredients, ignoring her miffed expression when he grabbed a couple of sachets from her stash of sugar under the desk. "Right. Hi." He paused. "It's, um," Clearing his throat, he ignored the ridiculous part of him that wanted to be nervous, and continued, more confidently, "Scarily, it's easy enough to make a smoke bomb." There were a couple of smirks at that. Wolf really didn't think this was a good idea. "All you need is some plain table sugar, some baking powder, and some potassium nitrate, or saltpetre. Also, some aluminium foil, and something to heat it in…"
"…And that's how you make a smoke bomb." He told them, with a quick grin. Glancing at the teacher, he added, "I don't suppose I'm allowed to set it off in here?"
"No, thank you, Mr. Alvarez." She told him, rather coolly. "Thank you for the fascinating demonstration."
"No problem." He told her, easily. "Any time. Next time, if you'd like, I could show you how to actually kill someone."
"I don't think my students need any demonstrations in how to damage each other in their chemical practicals." She replied, stiffly, just as the bell rang.
Wolf collared Alex in the resulting confusion, saying, firmly, "No more roping me into any of your classes, alright, Cub? Every time you get me involved from here on in, I will hurt you. Got me?"
The little brat had the effrontery not to look scared. Wolf glared.
They managed to get through the day almost calmly until after lunch. With only two more lessons left, Biology happened.
The substitute teacher was one of the new Biology teachers the school had just employed, so he had a rough idea of what Wolf was. Alex suspected that he didn't have a full idea, or, if he did, was young enough to show that he found the entire thing either fascinating or daunting, because he kept shooting the man half-nervous, half-intrigued glances.
On the other hand, Wolf had that effect normally, so it was entirely possible that that had nothing to do with it.
He was a good teacher, though, even if he was rather nervous and over-earnest.
"Mr. Martins has told me that you've started on Nerves and Muscles, is that right?" there were a few murmurs of assent. "That's excellent." He smiled. "Right, well, I've prepared a few sheets for you…"
The lesson was uneventful until about halfway through, after he'd explained about the five stages of muscles response, and all the rest of it, and was half way through trying to explain the way muscles and nerves were arranged in the human torso.
"This would be much easier if I had a diagram to show you." he smiled, rather nervously. "Of course, the best way to teach you would be if I had a live, or full-sized model to show you on…"
Next to Alex, Tom grinned, leaning across to him and whispering,
"They should use Wolf – bet they could pick out every muscle on the damn chart." Alex stifled a laugh, and the teacher looked at him, quizzically,
"What's so funny?" He asked, sounding genuinely interested.
Alex flushed, and hesitated. Finally, he said to Wolf, in rapid-fire Spanish, "It was just Tom and me, mucking around. He kind of – well, he suggested that you could be the life-sized model."
It was Wolf's turn to flush. "That's classified." He told the teacher, rather roughly. The man was visibly taken aback.
Tom smirked a little. "Sorry, sir – it was my fault. I just thought – well…" he shrugged, "Since Mr. Alvarez's here, he could act as a model, for you to show us the muscles and nerves…"
There was a moment of deadly silence, and Alex could feel Wolf waiting for the other man to laugh it off – but the substitute teacher, Mr. Allenby, was giving him a wide-eyed hopeful look. He frowned, but the man didn't let up.
"Well, if Mr. Alvarez really doesn't mind…"
He paused, and looked at Tom. "That's unfortunate. See, now I have to kill you."
Allenby gave a nervous little laugh. "Mr. Alvarez…"
"He just doesn't want to take his shirt off…" Someone muttered from the other side of the classroom, and Wolf glared back at them without moving.
"Wolf." Alex muttered. "No one's making you do it, you can just say…"
"Oooh… pussy-whipped." The same voice piped up, and Wolf's glare darkened. Standing, and handing Alex the notebook he'd been scribbling in, he pulled his T-shirt off, and folded it, neatly and deliberately, and putting it on Alex's desk.
The class was utterly, utterly silent as he made his way up to the front, and while Mr. Allenby – the only other person in the room who was apparently unaffected by the whole thing – pointed out the different muscles and the structure of the nerves in the human torso. Alex noted, with amusement, that a couple of the girls were actually almost drooling.
"I didn't do anything that time!" Alex protested quickly, once the class was over, and Wolf – once again fully clothed – was stood, glowering at him quietly. Tom had wisely chosen to disappear, and Alex had been left alone with a seriously pissed off ex-SAS.
Life wasn't looking good. Or long, for that matter.
Wolf appeared to consider that for a second or so. "That's true." He conceded, reluctantly. Alex stared. "What?"
"Did you just – were…" he shook his head. "Wow. You were just lenient."
"That wasn't lenient, that was fair."
"Yeah, because you're the poster boy for 'fair', right?" he said, snarkily, as he led the way out of the classroom.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Wolf asked, hotly.
"Wolf, you bullied me for a fortnight at the Brecon Beacons because I was a kid. That's not exactly text book 'fair' is it?"
Wolf let that one go in silence. There was, after all, nothing he could really say in his defence. "Fine." He said, rather gruffly. "What have you got next?"
Alex thought for a second. "PE." He said, finally. "Last lesson of the day."
Wolf nodded, and they parted outside the changing rooms. Wolf grinned to himself, and headed to the gym to have a word with Alex's PE teacher.
When he got to the gym, it was Alex's turn to be worried, as Wolf met his eyes with a smirk that could only be described as evil.
"Sit." The teacher ordered, quietly. "Right, you lot – today, we're going to be playing dodge-ball; I'm going to divide you up into teams, and the team who wins doesn't have to run three laps of the gym at the end of the lesson. Rider, you're with Mr. Alvarez."
Alex shot Wolf a venomous glare as he headed over to him, the rest of his class watching eagerly.
"What's this about then?"
Wolf shrugged easily, leading him over to one corner of the room. "Well, there's no point you playing bloody dodge-ball, is there, Cub? You might as well use this period to build up your fitness. I just pointed that out to your teacher." He grinned. "Nice guy. Saw my point immediately."
"Right. So, this has nothing to do with the fact that you had to take your shirt off in my Biology lesson."
"I'm shocked and hurt that you would think I could be so petty." Wolf told him, with another, wider, more evil grin. Alex groaned.
It started off almost easy – running laps of 'their' little part of the gym, stopping only to do sit-ups or press-ups, or crunches, as Wolf told him to; then they moved on to the harder things.
"We'll start with a basic warm up – then, sprints. After that, we'll see – but I want to spar with you before we go to a session with the Bank, get your measure, maybe teach you some of the techniques I learnt in the SAS, and now is as good a time as any."
Alex was wholly unsurprised, therefore, to find that, just a few seconds into his all-out fight with Wolf, that the entire gym was silent, watching them. Tired, sweaty and ever-so-slightly annoyed, Alex couldn't help but feel a little pissed off about that.
He aimed a knee-strike to Wolf's groin, and the other man twisted out of the way, but stepped into the punch he aimed at his jaw; the momentary distraction provided by that allowed him to kick at his knee, and, as Wolf stumbled, he sank a fist into his gut.
Wolf allowed himself to swear, once and violently, in Spanish, before forcing himself to forget the pain, and straighten. He was expecting the punch Cub immediately aimed at his face, and blocked it easily, with a hooking block; using his grip on the kid's wrist, he pulled him forward, onto his waiting knee – and then stopped.
"From here," he said, quietly, holding Cub in place, and pretending to ignore the wide-eyed stares from the rest of the little brats, "I could do a variety of things, depending on the circumstances. I could punch your kidneys in, wind you again, twist your neck – possibly breaking it – or I could stab you in the back, if I had a knife. Or I could do this." He switched his grip on Cub's wrist, and twisted his whole body around that point, sending Cub to the ground, winded. He knelt by him, putting one hand on his neck. "And from here, I could strangle you." he stood. "I win." He stood, offering Alex a hand, which, to his surprise, the boy took without trying to pull him down on top of him, which would have been very film-esque, but not very smart.
So he wasn't expecting Cub to sweep his legs from under him.
The kid grinned down at him. "I win."
He was gone before Wolf had a chance to retaliate.
Life went on like that for nearly a fortnight, during which Wolf was formally discharged – honourably – from the SAS, and enrolled at MI6, and Alex was given the details for his new status within the organisation; they were both started on an intensive training course, learning, at an accelerated pace, judo, Chinese, and some Russian – and Alex often got the impression that their 'teachers' were highly frustrated at having to fit their lessons in around his school day. They were both being taught 'correct procedure' for post-mission reports, and were having shooting 'practice' three times a week, two sessions of martial arts – 'just for practice' – along with various other ways of putting someone out of action, and, to Wolf's delight, getting information out of someone.
It took him nearly three weeks to work out that Alex was looking far the worse for wear.
It was a Saturday, and they'd been scheduled another Chinese lesson to 'get them up to scratch'. Wolf was willing to bet that their next mission was going to be in China somewhere.
He'd gone to Alex's house in Chelsea, as he'd arranged with the kid the day before; but when he knocked on the door, it was the red-headed housekeeper – Jo? Jackie? Something like that – who opened the door.
"Hi…" he said, awkwardly, "Is – um… is Alex around?"
She gave him a disapproving frown. "He's sick." She told him, shortly, her accent, as much as her attitude, grating on his nerves.
"Sick?" he repeated, dubiously. "How sick?"
"Sick, like he's running a fever, and can't think straight." She snapped. "I don't know what your precious," she seemed to suddenly realise that they were having this conversation effectively in the open, and lowered her voice to a venomous hiss, "Your precious MI6 have been thinking – sure, they say that they're going to treat him properly; screw that, they've been working him into the ground!"
Wolf frowned. "What do you mean, 'working him into the ground'?"
"Come inside," she said, by way of an answer. "I'm not having this conversation on the doorstep."
He followed her into the kitchen, and hovered awkwardly in the doorway. "What's wrong with Cub? And, what do you mean about MI6…"
"It might have escaped your notice," she said, acidly, "But Alex is still in school, and he's still got a student's workload. And he's getting home at eight or nine at night every night, and he's still expected to do two or three hours of homework? After a full day of school? I'd like to see you try that." She glared at him, and he shifted, rather uncomfortably. "He's trying to learn so much, he's got a near permanent headache – that, or he's swallowing painkillers like they're going out of fashion for fun, and I'll tell you now that Alex just doesn't do that - and he can't sleep at night… I'm not surprised that he's having a damn breakdown!"
Wolf stared. "A breakdown?"
She sighed, flopping suddenly into one of the chairs. "Yeah." She shrugged. "Well, no, not exactly a breakdown, not strictly. But – he's not sick, you know? He's exhausted. He's been runnin' on empty for the last few days, at the least."
Wolf nodded, slowly. "Right." He paused for a second, then said, cautiously, "Can I see him?"
She waved him off, expression tired. "Go for it. First door on the left, first floor." She bit her lip for a moment, then said, rather reluctantly, "And – I'm sorry for tearing you out just now. It just – it gets me so angry, you know? All this shit that MI6 pull with Alex, and he's – he still gives them everything. He deserves better."
"Yeah. He does." Wolf agreed, quietly, and, when she didn't seem about to say anything else, turned and headed up the stairs to his partner's room.
Alex was asleep when he opened the door, pale face flushed, and somehow thinner than Wolf remembered it being yesterday. He didn't wake him, but headed back downstairs, bidding Jacqueline, or whoever, a quick, rather terse goodbye, and heading straight over to the Bank.
When Alex saw Wolf again, on Monday, the man was looking even grimmer than usual, and greeted him with a faintly worried,
"How are you?"
Alex frowned. "Fine. What did I miss?"
"You're fine? Because you still look like shit, Cub."
"Oh, thanks." Alex told him, sarcastically. "I'm fine – just a bit tired. Nothing important, anyway. What did I miss, in the lesson?"
"Cancelled it." Wolf told him, shortly. "There isn't any point me learning things that they're just going to have to go over again for you, so I cancelled it." He paused. "I've – had a word with a couple of people." He began, rather awkwardly. "And they've agreed to let off a bit, with all the lessons, and sessions, and things we're supposed to turn up with. Give you a chance to – get healthy before they send us on any missions."
Alex stared at him. "You did what?"
"I had a word with some people."
"You make it sound like you had Blunt killed." Alex attempted to a joke to hide his utter shock.
"Not exactly, no." Wolf allowed himself a small smile. "I just pointed out that they couldn't expect you to do well in any assignments we were given if you were half-dead from all their training."
Alex baulked a little at that. "I wasn't 'half-dead'!" he protested.
"Whatever you say, Cub." Wolf shot back, and the heavy atmosphere lightened considerably.
Ten days later, Alex got the phone call he'd been expecting for nearly a month.
"Mr. Rider?" a polite, trained secretary, from her voice, who had very little idea what kind of a person she was speaking to.
"Yes?"
"We were wondering if you could come to the Bank. Friday, four o'clock?"
He nodded, though he knew that she couldn't see him. "Fine, thank you."
"Thank you, sir." She rang off, and left him listening to the dial tone and wondering what – and where – he was going to be sent into this time.
Next Friday found Alex and Wolf in Alan Blunt's office, being briefed for their next assignment. Blunt was as bland and to-the-point as usual, despite having apparently been inches from enforced retirement, but Mrs. Jones seemed to have changed and relaxed, at least a little.
"The assignment itself is simple." Blunt told them, sounding almost bored by the whole procedure. "You're being sent in to get information about a drug ring; anything you can find out, we want to know."
"Why's it so important?" Alex asked, and pretended not to see the frown Wolf sent him for interrupting a 'superior'.
"Obviously, the drugs they're sending into Britain are a problem." Mrs. Jones told him, quietly, "But, we've got reason to believe that they've got contacts in the British government who are covering for them, and helping them – we want to know who they are so that we can – weed them out."
Alex nodded, sitting back in his chair, giving Wolf the chance to ask any questions, if he wanted, or for Blunt to continue.
"Your cover is simple enough, you'll find it in this brief," Mrs. Jones handed each of them a blank manila folder, while Blunt talked, "And Smithers will fit you up with all the equipment you'll need. If possible, we want you to get the information back to us before the elections." He gave each of them a long, searching look. "Any questions?"
"Where are we being sent?" Alex asked, quietly.
"South America. Quito, in Ecuador, specifically." Blunt told him, shortly. "Anything else?" A brief pause. "Thank you."
They both recognised the dismissal. As they headed out, Alex asked Wolf, half under his breath, "Nervous?"
"About having to trust you with my life? Oh, hell yes, Cub."
"I meant, about the assignment."
"Nah – piece of cake, right?"
Alex flinched, glad that he'd caught the undercurrent of irony in his partner's words. "Yeah, piece of cake." He agreed, sarcastically. "And – Wolf? Try not to get yourself killed."
"Try not to make me want to kill you, alright?" The man shot back.
Alex offered him a quick grin. For the first time, he thought he might actually be – well, not looking forward to an assignment exactly – but not dreading it.
Things had definitely changed.
FIN
God. Long winded little sod, aren't I?
Right. The sequel. It's in the works, I'm planning it, and I want to know - how many people don't mind/would like it to be slash?
By slash, I dont' mean that Alex and Wolf are going to be having hardcore sex on his fifteenth birthday. This would be decent, built-up, legal sex; I think it could work quite well. Any takers?
OK, well, that's it for this story. I hope you enjoyed!
LOL, ami. xxx