When Circumstances Clash

By: Lore or mess.

Disclaimer: I don't own Alex Rider, I just write fanfictions. Anything else that seems familiar is either a feature from my other fics or utter coincidence.

Warnings: This story may contain homosexual relationships. If you are offended by this or in any way feel uncomfortable, you have the choice to continue reading or forego reading this story. The choice is yours. However, I will not entertain any sort of derogatory comments made concerning this issue. This warning has been posted.

II: Spīra - Convolution

All three people froze. Isaacs took one look at the two of them, turned tail and fled. Jason cursed under his breath and whipped after him, pushing the blond kid roughly out of the way, the heavy briefcase clutched in one hand, Beretta in another. Even as he burst out of the doorway, skidding, Isaacs had managed to run the length of the corridor and turned out of sight before Jason could get an accurate aim. Cursing again, Jason gave chase, knowing that if Isaacs got away, there'll be one hell of a mess.

~~~~~~~ When Circumstances Clash ~~~~~~~

Alex stumbled as the thief pushed past him, gun raised again. He'd barely managed to regain his balance before the man ran out of the room, cursed, and tore down the corridor, presumably chasing . Alex debated if he should follow, then decided against it. For one thing, he might get caught in any crossfire and if they ran into any occupied area, he might get recognized as Basil Maitland. That will create more trouble than he was willing to face. Besides, he had no reason to follow them. If he did, he would lose his credibility as the clueless teenager who broke into another guest's room solely for the purpose of burglary. No, the smart thing to do now was to return to his suite and call MI6. He had as close to proof as he could get on the existence of the weapon and there was little else he could do now except wait for them to get there.

Giving one last glance around the empty room, Alex closed the door behind himself and quickly left before anyone else came along.

~~~~~~~ When Circumstances Clash ~~~~~~~

Renatus's shoulders shook with mirth as he watched the frozen stare-off between the three people on the screen. He didn't bother holding in his chuckles when Jason lunged past 'Basil' and sped down the corridor, moving out of range of the hidden cameras he had bugged the scientist's room with earlier. Coughing slightly to control his laughter, he minimized the window portraying the room and opened a new programme which had previously hacked into the cruiser's security systems. The programme allowed him to choose the views from the hundreds of security cameras installed all over the cruiser. Clicking on the one he wanted, a new window opened to show the footage taken from the corridor just outside Isaacs' room. He saw the scientist running away from the camera's focus like a bat out of hell followed shortly by Jason, who had the all important briefcase in hand. Changing views swiftly, he followed their leg race down hallways and several barely occupied sitting areas before Jason finally lost sight of Isaacs. The scientist had successfully ditched him.

Opening a new window to follow their separate routes, Renatus spared a moment to check on 'Basil'. It seemed that the other boy had retreated somewhere, probably his own room, rather than chase after Isaacs like Jason had. Clever boy.

Looking back up at the two other people on his screen, Renatus noticed that, some time during the chase, Jason had taken the time to remove his balaclava and harness as well as hidden his gun somewhere on his person. A good decision if he did not want people to start screaming 'bloody murder!'.

Taking out his mobile, Renatus watched the two anxious figures with an almost lazy expression, a very satisfied smile on his face. He scrolled through his long list of contacts, looking for one particular number. On one side of the screen, Jason was making an angry gesture for losing Isaacs. Renatus's smile widened when he found the number he was looking for, and dialed.

~~~~~~~ When Circumstances Clash ~~~~~~~

Jason had just managed to hide his gun under his jacket when they turned a corner and a lady with a cleaning trolley came up ahead. Isaacs yanked it roughly behind him as he ran past, the plump service lady shrieking at the abrupt and uncouth action. Jason didn't even slow down or try to maneuver the trolley out of the way. Taking two fast strides, he deftly leaped across the trolley like an Olympic athlete and continued after the scientist.

The two of them ran like their lives depended on it… well, perhaps it was true for one of them at least… until three corners later, Jason turned to find an empty corridor. Not a single soul and no sound of footsteps either. Rushing down another hallway yielded the same result. He'd lost him.

"Fuck!"

Jason ran an irate hand through his short brown hair, pacing slightly and trying to regain the breath he'd lost during the chase. The briefcase felt even heavier than before in his hand. Jason glanced down at it then made a frustrated gesture. He had the case but he'd let the target escape. Not good. His employer wouldn't be happy about this. Huffing, he tried to think of the best course of action to take to ensure that the scientist was rightfully dead before the end of the day.

Interrupting his thoughts was his vibrating cell phone.

Jason didn't recognize the number and glanced both ways slightly before answering.

"Yeah?"

"He's one floor above you. Casino."

The voice was male and young. Couldn't have been older than himself. But what stumped Jason was how this person could have gotten his number. Or better yet, how the hell did he know about what he was doing? Jason didn't make it a habit to give random strangers his number. Only people who'd be interested in his career would have it, and even then they rarely shared it even amongst themselves. And as far as he knew, only his employer knew about this job. The big man had told him explicitly that it was important to keep it quiet. So how in god's name did the boy know about this? And how……

Jason's eyes swiveled upwards. There, on the ceiling five metres in front of him, a small hemisphere stuck out of the cream coloured plaster. He could just see the lens of a camera, glinting off the light from the hallway. It was one of the ship's surveillance cameras, but Jason knew first hand just how easy it was to hack into a holiday cruiser's security systems.

"Who is this?" he asked, staring intently at the camera diagonally above him. All he received in reply was a dead tone as the other person hung up.

The edges of his lips pulled into a frown and he narrowed his eyes at the camera, hoping that whoever was watching could see his displeasure. Putting his phone away, he turned and quickly made his way towards where the caller had said Isaacs would be. He'd give the boy the benefit of the doubt for the moment. Anyone who had his number, knew about his assignment and had the skills to hack into a moderately tight security system had to be someone to be taken seriously. Jason didn't see how that someone would have anything to do with him currently but he'd figure it out when he didn't have a scientist to kill.

Arriving at the entrance to the cruiser's onboard casino, Jason took a moment to lean casually against a semi-secluded wall, discreetly surveying the scene. Isaacs was talking to one of the guards stationed at the casino entrance. A rapid conversation and much arm-waving later, Jason watched with narrow eyes as the guard reached for the small black radio clipped to his uniform and began to talk into it.

'Dammit. There goes any thought of possibly enjoying this goddamned cruise.'

Cautious as to not be seen, the mercenary quickly but unobtrusively made his way back to his room. Plans for compromise and damage control were already formulating in his head.

First and foremost, he'd had to hide the briefcase. Then, get rid of the Beretta. It was a waste of a good firearm but he'd been in his trade long enough to know that when something can be avoided, it is to be avoided at all costs. Besides, even though Isaacs had probably been to busy running to notice the make of the gun, the blond kid had had a pretty good look at it. And Jason knew how these situations worked. With a cruise liner loaded with people rich enough to finance a small war in a third world country, the security service wasn't going to just let this go. There'll be searches and interviews and random checks. So promise or not, there's a high possibility that the kid will talk, given enough pressure. And being another spoilt rich brat, he doubted the kid would last long under that kind of stress.

~~~~~~~ When Circumstances Clash ~~~~~~~

Alex leaned back onto the king sized bed as he finished sending the confirmation signal to MI6 through his modified iPod. It was one of his favourite contraptions, especially when he was stuck waiting for something to happen on a mission. Such as now. Fetching a pair of earphones, he set the device to start at a random track and relaxed.

Alex knew that there was pretty much nothing for him to do now. Once MI6 arrived, he would probably be snuck into a short meeting to give his immediate on-site report, but other than that, he would have to maintain his cover. All the way to Sweden and back. had explained to him earlier on that even if all went well, they couldn't pull Alex out prematurely, to avoid the suspicion of identity theft. God knows what sort of trouble it would cause if people noticed that Basil Maitland had gone missing after a bunch of government officials showed up. On the bright side, if MI6 wrapped the mission up quickly, he'd be free to enjoy himself on board a real cruiser liner. A first for Alex, if he remembered correctly. He would have to be careful not to be too conspicuous but it wouldn't stop him from having a good time. He deserved some of that.

Close to an hour of monotony passed before Alex snapped out of his boredom and song induced daze. MI6 had still not arrived yet. Stretching lightly from where he was sprawled over the dark red bed covers, he stood and figured he should change out of the formal tuxedo he was still wearing from the noon party. Just as he was undoing his white dress shirt, a knock sounded from the sitting room where the main suite door was located.

'Finally.'

Not bothering to redress, Alex walked out of the bedroom to the door, fully expecting the expressionless face of an MI6 agent. Crawley, perhaps? But what he came face to face with, when he swung open the door, was a handsome teenager.

Renatus's icy blue eyes roamed from his surprised face to his half exposed chest to the rest of his clothed body before coming back up to rest upon his face again. The smile on the dark haired teenager's lips widened just the tiniest bit at the corners.

"Bad time?"

Alex was certain the seductive purr he heard in that question was simply a figment of his embarrassment. He was suddenly painfully aware of the three undone buttons of his shirt. It was through many years of practice that he managed to keep the mortified blush from creping onto his face.

"Uh… No. I was just, um… listening to some music."

"Right." The little smile was still there. "May I come in?"

Alex didn't see an excuse he could use to get out of the situation. Plus, it would be somewhat odd if he turned Renatus away seeing as they were supposedly friends from 'before'. So it was with an awkward gesture that he invited the other in.

The dark haired boy looked around the plush sitting room with a polite but disinterested gaze before turning back to him. That smile on his lips seemed to grow again.

"Hiding, are you?"

Alex immediately tensed. "What?"

Renatus looked surprised for a moment. "I assumed you knew. The cruise's security is going barmy. Apparently there was some madman out with a gun. Chased a poor bloke all over the ship. Luckily the guest managed to escape. They're searching through everyone now. To the displeasure of many people."

Alex took a moment to reconcile what he knew to what he'd just heard from Renatus. So Isaacs had managed to escape from the thief and now the entire ship knew about their little chase. This would make things slightly more difficult once MI6 got here. With tensions running high amongst the passengers, they'd have to come up with a good explanation when they show up to search the ship.

Alex looked back to Renatus. The other boy had seated himself at one of the overstuffed armchairs and was contently staring at him in curiosity.

"Is there something wrong?"

"No. Just thought it odd that you're here by yourself. Most boys our age and standing would have a companion with them on cruises like these. Chaperone, bodyguard, friend,… lover."

"My girlfriend opted to stay in France. She is sometimes difficult to persuade." replied Alex, playing by his cover.

"How unfortunate." Renatus hummed lightly in response. And Alex started to stress. He could handle high end social calls like these just fine, but never with someone of his own age. He wasn't quite sure what was safe to talk about. Fortunately, Renatus saved him the trouble when he started to comment on the various political states of European nations. Once they'd exhausted that topic, Renatus had moved onto 'Basil's experience in France and Alex was finding it hard to continuously conjure up spontaneous lies. It was a relief when respite came in the form of Renatus's ringing mobile.

"It's my friend. He's looking for me. Shall I invite him to join us?"

'No, you shan't.' "Of course." Alex was getting rather tired of lying through his teeth but there was hardly any other answer he could give. Besides, Renatus's company wasn't unpleasant. Despite what had happened earlier, the other boy was a very considerate person. Calm, insightful, refined, intelligent. Every bit a dignified child from a privileged background. Somewhere in his subconscious, Alex made a mental note that if he ever had to do a similar mission sometime in the future, Renatus was the perfect persona to emulate.

Alex slipped into his suite's tiny kitchenette while the other boy sent a message over to his friend. He returned with expensive bottled cocktails for the both of them. Not his first choice of drink but the small fridge in the kitchenette had nothing else to offer. Renatus seemed pleased with the selection though. He accepted the Electric Jam and left the Highball for Alex, who took a small sip of the green liquid and immediately had to suppress the urge to gag. He'd never been a fan of alcohol and the sharp bitter tang of the cocktail left an itchy, burning feeling at the back of his throat

'Must be an acquired taste. I'm sure I'll get it when I'm older.'

Renatus, on the other hand, seemed very pleased with his drink. He sipped leisurely at it, staring intensely at Alex over the bottle. Alex was sure it was the alcohol burning up when heat started to gather around his neck regions.

They managed to nurse a bit of small talk between them before a knock sounded on Alex's door for the second time that day. Assuming this was the friend Renatus had been talking about, Alex got up to open it. On the other side stood yet another striking teenager. But unlike Renatus, who had greeted Alex with amusement and a hint of something else, this boy regarded him with something akin to coldness. Where Renatus's eyes were icy in colour, the stranger's deep blue eyes were icy in nature. They took in Alex's apparel with a single dismissive glance before returning to drill into his head. Before Alex became too uncomfortable under that stare, a summons came from behind him.

"Tax."

Stepping aside to allow the new boy in, Alex's trained eyes didn't miss the boy's quick scrutiny of his sitting room, pausing slightly at the cocktail bottles before stopping at Renatus, who had stood up from his reclined position on the armchair.

"I see you found me. Allow me to introduce you. Tax, this is Basil Maitland, my childhood playmate. Basil, this is Tax Manuel, my closest friend."

"Delighted."

Tax's voice was deep and he extended his hand towards Alex, a chilly little smile on his face. When Alex reached out to grasp that hand, he felt the taller boy squeeze a lot more than what was necessary. He had a feeling this Tax didn't like him very much.

"I was just catching up with Basil. He had not been aware that the ship's security was doing checks on the passengers after the mad gunman incident."

"Yes, about that…" Tax shifted his gaze from Alex to Renatus. "They're about to search the area where our rooms are located. I assumed you'd want to be there when they rifle through our stuff." Alex noticed that Tax's accent was American as opposed to Renatus's perfect English lilt.

Renatus nodded. "Of course." Then he turned to Alex. "It's been a pleasure, Basil. I do hope we speak again some time soon."

Alex muttered some similar polite farewells and saw them to the door. Once it was closed behind them, he sighed in relief and walked back to his bedroom, intent on finishing his interrupted attempt at changing. Perhaps he'd toss in a shower as well. It was tiring playing the role of a rich kid.

~~~~~~~ When Circumstances Clash ~~~~~~~

Renatus walked leisurely back to his suite with Tax by his side. He could feel the aggravated tension emanating from the taller boy but his busy thoughts prevented him from paying much attention to his lover.

'Basil' was talented. He was natural, charming, divertive, and could lie with a perfectly straight face. He was able to make up excuses on the spot and seemed to remember just how much he could reveal and how much was too much. Yes, he was very good. But not good enough. Or maybe Renatus was just better. After all, he'd been doing this ever since he was old enough to understand the definition of the term 'deception'.

The meeting had provided him with some interesting clues as to 'Basil's relative identity. Renatus already knew what the other boy was after, just not who he worked for. A young instrument like him had neither skills nor the resources to be operating alone and was sure to be working for someone bigger. The question was, who? Besides the obviously involved parties, no one was supposed to know about the weapon. Renatus had been quite annoyed, no matter how entertained, when he contemplated the thought that they had a mole somewhere. A situation which was not acceptable on any level.

But back to the matter at hand. So far, Renatus had determined that 'Basil' was a relatively fresh spy, though not exceedingly inexperienced. The boy was still somewhat capable of becoming flustered, especially when Renatus projected sexual allure behind his actions. It made the blonde look so… cute. Plus, he could still see the raw goodness and innocence lurking behind those baby blue eyes, which he had been able to tell, by the second glance, were coloured contacts. Veteran spies didn't exhibit that quality. They were too weathered, too battered by all the things they'd seen to show that level of purity and honesty. As they say, the eyes are the window to the soul, and the soul of a spy is not pretty. Renatus knew that first hand.

So, who can he eliminate first? With his intelligence access, he knew he could pretty much exclude petty, bureaucratic Interpol and sweet, obedient Scotland Yard. And he couldn't see the Americans fitting into this, but one can never be too sure. So, that was a few down.

'The boy could be from the Russians but, hmm… it hardly seems like their work. Too thorough, using a British teenager with in-depth European knowledge. Too much of a pointless hassle to educate him. Europol?'

No, not likely. Despite the possibility of a leak, Renatus knew that their own primary security alone was still strong enough to keep out straying foreign agents. An inside tattler, then? He was disinclined to believe so. Just the mere suspicion of such a thing can single-handedly destroy half a dozen people. No one Renatus knew was that stupid. But somebody must have talked for this to happen……

Too many variables, too little information. No matter though; he was already a third of the way to mission completion. Once Jason manages to finish the second half of his assignment, it would only be a case of picking up the unfinished pieces. He'd have plenty of time to figure out 'Basil' after that. Then he could spend the rest of his summer time with Tax on his yacht in Italy. If 'The Powers That Be' allow, that is. Now, all he could do was wait and play his part. He was confident that by the time the cruise was over, he'd be done with this little rebellious escapade.

Arriving back at his suite, Renatus casually swiped the card key across the reader and swung the large door open. Even with his thoughts effectively preoccupied, the teen wasn't distracted enough to miss the sudden movement from behind him. Angling his body, he met the abrupt pressure against his chest readily, voluntarily backing into one of the walls around the entryway. The door slipped shut beyond him with a soft click.

'Oh, yes. I'd almost forgotten.'

The breath was warm against his ear, the voice deep with a hint of a growl.

"You didn't tell me you met your childhood playmate at the party."

Renatus smirked imperceptibly. It would be so easy to bait the other, but he thought better of it. "He's not." He answered succinctly.

The pressure lessened slightly as vaguely confused dark blue eyes gazed down at him.

"Basil is currently still in France. Last I heard from him, he was having lunch with his girlfriend at La plus belle avenue du monde.Therefore, this situation is quite amusing, non?"

Tax stared penetratingly at him, perhaps understanding that the topic of conversation had moved out of his area of expertise. Nevertheless, he narrowed his eyes at Renatus a moment later.

"Is that why he was half dressed, and you were having alcohol with him? Alone?"

But Renatus was ready with a counter. "As though I can't smell the scent of cigars hanging off your clothes. Cuban?" He eyed Tax coolly. Indeed, the moment Tax had moved close to him, the peppery, leathery, burnt taste of tobacco had stuck to the back of his throat. It irritated him.

Tax looked smug. "No, Nicaraguan."

Renatus did what was the equivalent of a shrug and pushed Tax off his chest. But the American had other ideas. Tightening his hold on Renatus, he slammed him back into the wall and kissed him harshly. One knee pushed itself between Ren's legs and hands tugged roughly at his shirt, pulling it out of its pristinely tucked position. Fingers found their way onto naked skin and Tax pinned the shorter teen flush against the wall.

Ren surrendered control of the kiss. He knew what Tax was trying to do. And it entertained him to no end. He let Tax suck and nip almost painfully on his lower lip and trap him so sinfully against the wall, one thigh pressed where it rubbed oh so deliciously……

When they parted for breath, Ren ran his nose along Tax's jaw line, drifting up to his ear. "I know something we can do to ease some of this… stress." He whispered suggestively, hands wandering under Tax's shirt to splay long fingers against a flat stomach. Tax shuddered lightly in delight. Ren smiled.

'He makes it too easy sometimes.'

~~~~~~~ When Circumstances Clash ~~~~~~~

Frank Martin was a simple man, and he didn't ask for much. He was happy with his life, his job, his cozy little Mexican villa on the Gulf of California. Not that the last one mattered all that much seeing as he was only ever there for very short periods of time. Usually for several days to a fortnight at the most. Then he'd receive orders for another job and he'd leave again. It made having a dog impossible but he didn't complain. He had enough money to live comfortably and afford some luxuries if he wanted. And his job kept him sharp and busy. He was content with what he had. But years of everything going smoothly had not dulled his ingrained sense of paranoia.

Which was perhaps the reason why the over simplicity of the current job made him feel such an overt sense of wrongness.

Frank stared at the locker in front of him, trying to discern any sort of clue as to what was inside, who had placed it there, and what this entire job was all about. He'd received notification of a new assignment only two days ago and had to immediately start packing. The notification had come through e-mail, with an address which he did not recognize, but whose sender he did.

The orders had been simple. Go to Sweden and pick up an object from a postal storage locker. Keep the object safe and someone will come to retrieve it from him a few days later. A plane ticket to and fro Sweden had already been prepared for him. All he had to do was provide his given alias and he'd been whisked off to a commercial flight. A perfectly normal one. Once he reached Halland, he signed into the hotel the e-mail had mentioned and found that a deluxe room for one 'Ignatio Suarez' had already been booked and paid for via money transfer through online bank accounts. Which Frank was pretty sure had been erased as soon as the transaction was done.

It was all so easy… efficient… unproblematic that something must be at works in the background. His sense of doubt just wouldn't let the suspicion go to rest.

The locker seemed harmless and unassuming, which made the whole matter worse. Frank pursed his lips as he took a small black case out of his pocket. Reservations and distrust were ripe on the back of his tongue as he picked the lock of the locker with experienced fingers. The lock became undone with a click, and Frank paused.

He knew it would probably make him feel really foolish if it turned out to be nothing, but it wouldn't be the first time someone tried to kill him through an assignment. In his line of work, the enemies of his clients see him as fair, and sometimes better, game. He'd picked up a healthy sense of self perseverance since then. It could be a motion-sensing bomb in that locker for all he knew.

Ah well. He'd accepted that his job was hazardous to his health since the very start when he chose this profession. And he wasn't going to let his suspicions overcome his ability to do his job.

Tugging open the locker, Frank peered inside to see…… a thick black briefcase. How inconspicuous.

Frank refrained from rolling his eyes as he reached out for the handle of the briefcase. This was the moment of truth. If it was a bomb, he probably won't be around to see the aftermath but if it wasn't, then it pretty much eliminates other possibilities.

'Except a timed bomb.' His kind consciousness told him.

Hefting the case out, Frank paused just slightly.

Nothing.

No grand fireball of explosion to tear his body apart and fling his limbs across the earth.

'Well, that was a waste of a good morning spent stressing over this stupid case.'

Frank lifted the briefcase up for a closer look. A combination lock and another which needed a key. He weighted the case. Not too heavy but not light either. It felt filled, packed. Whatever was inside either had protection or it was huge and took up the entire space inside the briefcase. But it didn't matter to him whichever way. He was just the transporter.

Walking back to his rented car, Frank casually slipped out his cell phone. No matter that the briefcase was probably as harmless as it looked, the entire thing still bugged him. Normally he wouldn't have accepted a job so doubtful, if not for the sender of the e-mail.

Anceps. Latin for two-edged.

Anceps had been a client of his for more than four years now and Frank had no reason to refuse the job. Though he'd never met the man, the pay had always been well and promises given were always delivered. But Frank wasn't stupid. While the things he'd been told to transport before weren't exactly illegal, some of them made him think. Deeply. Whoever Anceps was, he wasn't operating along the fine lines of governments.

However, this particular job had noticeably more finesse than Anceps' normal requirements. Everything had been perfectly arranged; the flight, the hotel, the money needed. It made the job seem rushed, urgent, regardless of the effort it would have taken to ensure the immediate flight and money transfer. Before this job, Frank had always had to struggle through the messiness and pettiness of the little things by himself. Whatever the briefcase contained, Anceps (if it was even Anceps) needed it fast. The sudden difference in attitude from Anceps made Frank wonder if maybe this wasn't an imposter.

Dialing a number he remembered by heart, Frank set to find out more about this job. Even if it wasn't what he suspected, it was high time he learned a bit more about Anceps anyway.

~~~~~~~ When Circumstances Clash ~~~~~~~

"…ah—… haa… Tax…"

Tax greedily feasted his eyes. Ren was moaning into the pillow and panting hard beneath him. He leaned down, pressing his chest against Ren's back, lips moving to suck on an earlobe. Ren ached hungrily up into him, shuddering.

"You like that?" he whispered, voice heavy and deep with lust.

Ren didn't bother to answer, moaning obscenely as he writhed on the bed.

Yes, this was right. This was where Ren should be; purring with pleasure from his attentions and positively begging for more. Not with some rich blonde punk whose infatuation with Ren had been blatantly obvious to anyone with one eye.

Earlier, when the door had opened and Tax had come face to face with some blonde jock whose clothes look like they'd been in the process of being taken off, his good humor from a successful deal had shot out the metaphorical window like a rocket propelled grenade. When he'd moved into the room and saw the cocktail bottles, he was pushed even further. But what clinched it was when Ren had introduced the loser as his childhood playmate. The level of intimacy that term indicated had caused him to lose it. He hoped that asshole was still smarting from the handshake. Sucker.

Below him, Ren shifted. He must have realized that Tax's mind had drifted and he wanted it back in the room. Tax planted a kiss on a shoulder and leaned back up, moving his hands to the area of Ren's tailbone. He worked his way up, rolling his knuckles on the muscles along the way. His lover melted again under his touch, returning to that state of boneless putty of sensitive nerves. His cries were absolutely delicious. The smell of sex, honey, and musk from the massage oil was permeating every corner of the bedroom and it was struggle for Tax to not submit to his desires. He knew that was what Ren was trying to accomplish, crying out like that. His lover knew exactly what would push Tax over the edge. He was as much in control now, lying naked between Tax's legs, as he was every second of their relationship. And Tax loved it.

Leaning back down, Tax moved his fingers lower, teasing the delicate skin of Ren's inner thighs. He sucked on Ren's neck, one hand caressing circles inches from his lover's groin, the other massaging the area below the shorter teen's left shoulder blade. Ren's breathing was starting to hitch slightly and Tax knew he'd nearly got him. He pressed down, knowing full well that Ren could feel the complete length of his rock hard cock against the cleft of his ass. He was so close now……

The passionate sonata of Maurice Ravel's 'Bolero' filled the room.

Tax stilled. Ren's mobile was ringing next to where Tax had hastily discarded his crucifix. A thousand and one disgruntled shouts of obscenities ran across Tax's mind.

Ren whined in complaint and wriggled beneath him. "No, don't stop…"

Tax looked down and grinned. His fingers continued their slow advancement towards Ren's no doubt erect cock as his lover squirmed across the bed to reach the nightstand. The moment Ren glanced at his mobile's screen though, the shorter boy froze completely. Relaxed muscles tensed and Ren's entire demeanor screamed alertness. Tax immediately stopped.

"What? Who is it?"

"My Lord and Master." Ren answered him half jokingly. And half seriously.

Any sort of protest Tax might have had died in his throat. He knew better than to object when it came to that man. It was bad enough that he barely tolerated his relationship with Ren, Tax didn't need to give him additional reason to make Ren's life more difficult. He was silent even when Ren unceremoniously flipped him onto the bed when he moved out from beneath him. Ren sat with his back to Tax at the edge of the bed and answered the call.

Tax watched mutely from behind. He knew what the call was probably about and he didn't know how he should feel about it. He knew very little of what Ren did in his 'work' but what little he did know, he didn't like. Ren was too young and no matter what the other teen thought about himself, he was too untainted to do this sort of 'work'. They'd been in a physical relationship for more than a year now and had known each other for far longer than that. He'd seen Ren grow from a proud young boy to an even more arrogant young man. Perhaps through his experiences, Tax had become blind to the fact that Ren might be capable of sin. So he'd bitten his tongue and turned his head from anything relating to Ren's supposed job. The less he knew, the better. For the both of them. But sometimes……

Though he was hardly anyone to talk, considering what his family did for a living. It would make him the most hypocritical person on earth.

"—yes…… MI6? Interesting… yes, I think they have someone on board… yes…" Ren shifted sideways. "No, Jason has it but he hasn't finished the second half of the contract…… understood…." There was a lull in the conversation when Ren suddenly shot him a quick glance. Then he looked away with a small, silent sigh. "Understood."

Tax moved closer to Ren after he'd ended the call. His lover was probably in trouble again because of their relationship. But when he opened to mouth to ask, Ren turned to him with a sly smile.

"MI6, huh? Looks like there'll be an intriguing turnout."

Tax blinked as Ren put away his mobile. If Ren didn't want to talk about it, it was fine with him. Snagging one arm, he tugged his lover back onto the bed and swiftly resumed his position above Ren, facing him this time. The other teen peered up at him with burning eyes. And Tax just stared.

There Ren lay before him. Naked, beautiful, indomitable, powerful, every inch exuding control, but oh so sweet for the taking.

It was such a fucking turn on.

~~~~~~~ When Circumstances Clash ~~~~~~~

Alex was desperate. He'd exhausted the iPod, wasted the GameBoy, gotten bored of reading, watched three mind-numbing comedy episodes, and redid his luggage inventory. Several times. He was ready to start moving furniture around the suite when the soft sounds of helicopters were heard from outside his balcony.

Muttering a hallelujah under his breath and cursing MI6 for always being fashionably late, the blonde teenage spy calmly made his way to one of the cruiser's upper lounges nearest to the emergency helipad. It'd be the first place MI6 would go to after speaking with the captain and head of security. Alex preferred to go to them and give his on-site report as soon as possible before everything became even messier later once the searches started. It'd make his life so much simpler.

Arriving there, he took time in noticing the particular lounge he was in. They were serving early tea and some pastry snacks. Several people were about, mostly older folk who seemed content to just laze around for the rest of the day till dinner. The entire right wall was made of glass panels which gave an awe inspiring view of the North Sea. Sauntering over to one of the long tables, Alex helped himself to a glass of chilled tea. He put on an act of looking bored as he sat down at one of the armchairs. It wasn't hard; Alex was nearly bored out of his mind. He couldn't go to some of the more crowded areas of the cruiser for fear of missing MI6.

Still, it was a good half a dull hour later before the unremarkable face of John Crawley, along with half a dozen men, came into view at the lounge. Alex expertly remained impassive. The MI6 agent had obviously seen him and was making discreet signs for him to move out into the hallway. Finishing his tea, Alex stood and casually walked out of the lounge. Several minutes later, Crawley emerged and led him to an unused anteroom.

"Alex." Crawley nodded in greeting. "I assume all is well?"

"Not as well as can be." Alex answered haltingly.

Crawley raised an eyebrow.

"I found the weapon, or the briefcase containing it, but someone else knows about it too. When I went to retrieve it, a masked man forced me to give it up. It looks as though he intends to kill Isaacs too. He took the briefcase but I've got no way of finding him again. And I'm sure you heard from the ship's security about Isaacs little charade."

"Yes, but you don't need to worry about that. I have men searching the ship as we speak. We'll find the weapon and whoever's holding it. Isaacs, on the other hand, won't be a problem. He hardly seems inclined to leave the protection given by the ship's security."

"Alright. What do you need me to do now?"

"Just hang around for a bit, see if anything turns up. We'll set up a temporary office in the lounge. Once we leave, you'll be free to spend the rest of your holiday as you see fit."

For the first time that day, Alex gave a genuine smile and Crawley smiled back. Through the course of their careers, the two had become loose friends. It was inevitable when the older man was the only person Alex could really trust to be on his side whenever he was on a mission away from home.

"What are you going to tell the ship about MI6's involvement?" Alex asked.

"Well, we're saying that we received intel that a bomb's been placed onboard. We even brought our own bomb disposal squad to make the lie look more convincing."

Alex laughed at the cheeky answer. Soon though, he was checking the hallway before stepping out of the anteroom. Crawley left with a discreet wave and Alex returned to the lounge, taking the older agent's suggestion.

'It's going to be a long wait.'

~~~~~~~ When Circumstances Clash ~~~~~~~

Sam cursed repeatedly under his breath as he splashed his face with freezing water from the sink faucet. It had all been going so well for the first couple of days that he'd relaxed his guard. As a result, all hell broke loose. He'd admit that he knew the probability of him getting out of the country without being tracked was negligible at best, but to have an assassin sent after him? …… no, it wasn't overdone, not with that man…… Sam knew that when he accepted that deal from the Russians, his life was as good as forfeit if even a tiny whisper of it got out. It looked as though it did. Again, something he predicted. The past two months, he'd nearly pissed himself at work everyday, mentally cowering from the thought that he could be killed at any second. The man he worked for never forgives but he does forget… after he wiped you off from the face of the earth, that is. Frankly, Sam was surprised he'd lived this long. It gave him the confidence to see this deal through. After that, he'd find some way or other to stay invisible.

Knowing all the dangers, knowing that he'd probably be murdered in the most horrific manner possible if his employer had his way, most people would think him mad to have agreed to this arrangement. But in that one second of madness, reading that e-mail from Russia, he'd seen his whole future flash before his eyes. A no name scientist working for a man who had the entire world fooled. Wasting all his potential and intellect till he was drained dry or too old to be of any use and then disposed of, or possibly sent away to some far off place where he would not be a danger of exposing critical information. All his accomplishments, no matter how great, unacknowledged, unknown. A life of non-existence.

It had all been too much for Sam. As a scientist, he wanted to be acknowledged for his abilities. A Nobel Prize was impossible for him, but still he wanted people to know that Sam Isaacs created the amazing things he did. All the accessibilities and opportunities in the world were not worth being a nobody. Even if it meant being an agent of death. The weapon he'd created was devastating, and its beauty was in the specifics of its devastation. However, because of that, he'd known beyond a doubt that it would never be used. Which played a part in pushing him to this point. People would think that he did it for money. But Sam just wanted to be acknowledged. A simple desire.

Turning off the faucet, Sam dried his face off with a clean towel from the rack. He'd ducked into the bathroom after his nerves got the better of him. His guard, provided by the ship's security, was still outside in the room they had temporarily allocated him to.

'This whole situation is a nightmare.' thought Sam edgily as he hurled the damp towel into a hamper. 'Walking back to your room and finding a masked assassin waiting for you has got to be the worst thing anyone could think of.' But Sam hadn't been unprepared. The ship's security had him covered for now. Not for long though. Perhaps he'd slip away later when they ported at Denmark. No need to give his employer any more chances to have his body dumped into the ocean.

'Though,' Sam shivered uncertainly. 'he'd require remarkably less than an ocean to make someone disappear.'

~~~~~~~ When Circumstances Clash ~~~~~~~

Alex was uneasy, Crawley was agitated, and Agent James Norrington was confused.

"Agent Crawley from MI6?"

"Yes. And who might you be?"

"Agent James Norrington. Interpol, Denmark branch. We received word from Captain Barbossa that a bomb's been placed on the cruiser. We're here to assist you and provide any help we can in dispersing the threat."

As if that wasn't bad enough, Agent Norrington, who'd arrived via helicopter approximately ten minutes ago, then helpfully informed them that half a dozen Interpol patrol ships were making their way to them as they speak, each carrying a team of bomb disposal unit operatives complete with canine companions.

Alex discreetly watched from the side as Crawley tried, for the third time, to convince the Interpol agent that MI6 did not need their help in locating the bomb on the cruiser. Especially since there wasn't any. But of course, they couldn't tell him that.

The hushed conversation from halfway across the lounge was rapidly gaining intensity as the Interpol representative argued again that, because of the large number of nationals from their member states, they had every right to be involved in any attempt at maintaining public safety.

Alex could practically feel Crawley's frustration. The older agent was currently in charge of the apprehending of Isaacs and the securing of the weapon. But Interpol's presence was clearly going to get in the way of his mission. There was no bomb to be found, which was only going to lengthen Interpol's stay, and whatever findings MI6 discovered would have to remain secret until the other party was gone. It was a complete headache.

"I thought I'd find you here."

Alex turned his head to find Renatus smiling at him from his left. So focused was he on trying to hear Crawley and Norrington's conversation that he hadn't hear him arrive. The dark haired boy was leaning his hip against the side of an intricate ornamental table, looking decidedly lazy yet elegant at the same time. His clothes were different from before and a mild scent of musk and honey wafted off of him. Alex belatedly realized that Renatus had been expecting a reply from him.

"Why… did you think that?" he was careful to keep his tone neutral.

Renatus shrugged; a smooth gesture. "Well, we're teenagers on a cruise liner full of old people. Naturally when something exciting happens, we'd want to be first ones there. I'd heard, on my way here, that a bomb's been placed onboard and that MI6 is here to help us find it." Renatus's gaze drifted up towards the arguing duo across the lounge. "They don't seem very single-minded."

"Oh." Alex cast a glance at Norrington. "The man on the right is from Interpol. He heard from the captain and is here to help too." Alex explained. He figured Renatus would find out eventually anyway.

"Interpol." Renatus repeated softly. "Well, it's no surprise I suppose, with the number of internationally influential people onboard. I hope the threat is over soon, now that both MI6 and Interpol are present."

Contrary to his true thoughts, Alex made a sound of agreement before movement from behind Renatus gained his attention. Tax had just walked into the lounge and had seen Alex. The taller teen gave him a frosty smile that was bordering a smirk, eyes glinting with just a hint of vindictive arrogance and gratification. Alex blinked and the moment was over, Tax now moving over to the serving table.

'Just what does he have against me?' thought Alex bewilderedly.

"I suppose this will probably leave you a bad impression, seeing as it's your first time back in England after being away for so long." said Renatus, having taken no notice of the odd exchange between his two friends.

Just as Alex opened his mouth to play 'Basil' again, the slightly pudgy form of Reuben Tishkoff appeared next to him. The stature of the middle aged millionaire plainly screamed exasperation as he addressed them.

"Renatus, Basil, how I'm glad to see you boys. I just heard that Interpol is bringing dogs onto the ship. Can you imagine? Big, slobbering pooches running all over the place? I mean, surely they can do better than that? What about those bomb detecting machines they have? They're always boasting about what they can do and all that rot. Well, it's time they show us. Do they seriously expect us to let their mongrels sniff and paw through our property? It's absurd! This whole situation is ridiculous!"

Reuben's face contorted in a manner which suggested that there was something distasteful in his mouth. Continuing to mutter irately under his breath, the older man drifted off towards the small bar fitted into the right wall of the lounge. Alex watched him go with a mildly baffled expression.

"Uncle Reuben's an eccentric person. You'll get used to it." said Renatus with a note of fondness in his voice. "Though, he did raise an interesting point."

Alex turned to look at him and Renatus gave him another one of those smiles which seemed to make him inexplicably uncomfortable.

"Dogs are, without a doubt, the best for locating bombs. Else, the US army wouldn't still be employing the system after decades of service."

"I heard they're good for tracking too." Supplied Alex as a sudden though occurred to him.

Renatus smiled in agreement. They spoke a bit more before Renatus politely excused himself to go sit with Tax. Once he'd left, Alex switched his attention back to Crawley. It seemed the agent had relented to Interpol's insistence to help. Alex imagined he probably did it more out of the desire to avoid suspicion than anything. He watched as Norrington spoke authoritatively into his cell phone.

Alex sighed. He'd been right. It was going to be a looong cruise.

~~~~~~~ When Circumstances Clash ~~~~~~~

Renatus sat down next to Tax after serving himself a cup of Earl Grey. Beside him, Tax was helping himself to the assorted biscuits the staff had supplied.

"Interpol's bringing dogs onto the ship."

The half eaten orange meringue was lowered onto the plate below it.

Renatus sipped sedately at his tea. When no further action came from his companion, he gently reached across to select a piece of ginger biscotti from the small pile sitting on Tax's lap.

"Don't you have something to get rid off?" he asked, voice almost a whisper.

Tax sighed in long-suffering resignation and passed the plate on his lap over to Renatus. Then he stood and moved out of the room without a word.

Renatus sipped at his tea, pleased, and watched 'Basil' from out of the corner of his eye.

Author's Notes: Man, I am so drunk. My mum just pumped me full of sake… Anyways, after two chapters, I noticed that I have reverted to my usual style of writing; long and sometimes overly detailed. I have that problem. Does anyone else think so? And I feel that Alex didn't get enough screen time here. Hmm… Nothing much happened in this chapter but please, please leave a review so that I know what you guys think. The story's about to get convoluted. Another thing. My parents are sending me overseas for Christmas. So the next update might be a little slow. On the bright side, I get the chance to molest my bro-in-law's katanas… *salivate*

Reuben Tishkoff – Ocean's Eleven / Twelve / Thirteen

Francois Toulour – Ocean's Twelve / Thirteen

Kaito Nakamura – (Hiro Nakamura's father) Heroes

Sam Isaacs – Resident Evil: Apocalypse / Extinction

Jason Bourne – The Bourne Series

There are more new characters in this chapter. See if you can spot them. Thanks to all those who reviewed. REVIEW!