Disclaimer: I do not own the Alex Rider series.

Coming to America

Alex watched the lane markers pulse by hypnotically. He pulled his attention away from the road with some effort. "Not to play to stereotypes, but... are we there yet?" he asked.

Edward Pleasure harrumphed. "He speaks. It's... oh, another twenty minutes on the interstate, then another twenty or so from the exit."

Alex had been a little worried when their plane had been diverted from San Francisco International due to fog, but even Scorpia couldn't control the weather. Still, he had been appreciative when Edward decided to rent a car and drive home, rather than accepting the layover. He had felt uneasy, as if he were in enemy territory. He tried to stretch a bit within the confines of his seat belt to loosen up his stiffening muscles. They had already been on the road for almost two hours, after the long trans-Atlantic flight. "The highway seems to go forever."

The older man chuckled. "They say that's how you can tell an Englishman from an American."

"Pardon?"

"Well, an Englishman thinks a hundred miles is a long way, while an American thinks a hundred years is a long time."

Edward glanced over to observe that he'd earned a rueful smile from the boy. Perhaps it was sinking in just how from London he had come. Alex descended back into silence for a minute, before he asked, "Do you suppose this is a bad idea?"

"What is a bad idea?"

"You... my coming to live with you."

"Now, Alex, we've been through this. You're like family to us."

"Exactly why it's a bad idea. I'm just putting you in danger." Alex turned towards the driver, trying to impress upon him the urgency of his concern. "The... people... who killed Jack, they... they did it just to hurt me. They were planning on killing me anyway the next day. They did it... just because they could. I don't think Sabina's role in the Cray incident ever made it back to... those people (bloody OSA)... but I can't know that for certain. And you are very publicly linked to Cray through your book. It's asking a lot to think that just because the government forced you to imply that Cray was working alone that you're not on... those people's... radar. I don't think that they know how I came to be on Air Force One; the only direct link between Cray and... his backers... died at Heathrow. I have reason to believe that he did not report back to his superiors. But I... just don't know for certain."

"Listen to me, Alex. I don't know how you came by Cray's software - and as investigative journalist, it's killing me not to ask - but I know you saved my daughter's life, that you risked your own life to save hers. And you saved my life and hers in Scotland. You have to come live with us; you're responsible for us."

"Excuse me?"

"The Native Americans have a tradition that if you save someone's life, you become responsible for how that person spends their life. You have to come and make sure we don't squander your gift."

Alex tried to imagine being responsible for the tens of thousands (hundreds of thousands?) of lives that he had saved. It was a bit nauseating to think about. He dropped his head against the headrest. Edward thought he had won his point. "It will work. We'll make it work."

"Just... if there's any indication that... there's any danger, I'm going to contact Mrs. Jones and insist she find me a new situation." Edward grunted noncommittally, but he thought to himself that Alex never sounded more like a little lost boy.

Edward pulled into the driveway and shut off the engine. "And we're here." Alex paused a moment before sliding out the passenger door. Edward popped the boot – 'trunk', I have to start blending in thought Alex – and the teen grabbed his bags before the older man could limp to the back of the car. Alex looked up at the Pleasures' Queen Anne Victorian. Even with all the lights blazing on the first floor, it somehow it seemed more forbidding than he remembered it from his Easter holidays with the family.

The front door opened before they reached it, and soon Mrs. Pleasure was ushering them inside. "Oh, dear, look at you." "You must be tired." She fluttered around Alex, quite unlike her normally unflappable self. She spared her husband only the briefest kiss. Alex turned to the stairs and saw Sabina standing two steps from the bottom.

"Oh, Alex." She came to him, clasping his hands. "I'm so sorry about Jack. She was amazing." He took a sharp breath. Suddenly, the pain of the loss that he had been holding at bay came crashing down once again. Sabina stepped in for a hug, and laid her head against his chest. "I'm so, so sorry."

They held the embrace for a minute, as Alex regained his composure. Softly, Sabina said lightly "When did you get so tall?"

"Oh, thank god!" Alex exclaimed. Sabina pulled back to look into his face. "What…?"

"I didn't want to say anything…. but I thought you were shrinking!" he said with a small smile.

"Oh, you," she said with pursed lips, hitting his arm lightly. "You don't get to scare me like that."

They moved to the kitchen where Liz offered Alex and Edward a light supper, and soon packed Alex off to his new room.

Alex spent the next couple of days getting over his jet lag and sharing memories of Jack with Sabina. With a boy's straightforward approach to getting things done, Alex had assumed that arranging Sabina's visit to London and Alex's Easter visit to San Francisco had been a matter of exchanging schedules and flight numbers. But apparently the conversations had gone much further afield than that.

Much of it seemed to have been focused on embarrassing anecdotes about Alex. Alex had tried to bury the memories of cooking Ian's birthday meal all by himself when he was nine. Apparently, Jack had been keeping a close eye on what was going on in the kitchen. It had been one of the few times that Alex had not been overly disappointed when Ian canceled at the last moment. Jack and Alex had sat down to the meal "so it wouldn't go to waste." They had ended up eating Indian takeaway.

Each story lightened the weight on Alex's heart. It helped to know that someone else remembered Jack as fondly as he did. When Ian had died, Alex had only been back to school for a few days before he was whisked off to Wales for training. By the time he came back, his mates at Brookland had been more focused on his "illness" than his loss. Even if they had been so inclined, few at the school would have had more than a faint recognition of a face they may have seen along the sidelines of the soccer pitch, even then just for the waning minutes of a game.

This – this felt like a proper good-bye. Not a soulless funeral surrounded by people he had never met, spouting vague platitudes that did not connect to the person he knew. He would have liked to have attended Jack's funeral, but he had still been recovering at the safe house. Maybe it was for the best; Alex would not have liked having to feed Jack's parents evasions and half-truths. Jack deserved better than that.

Tom probably had his own trove of stories about Jack, but somehow he couldn't imagine sitting down and reminiscing with the other boy. It would be too much like talking about "feelings" – not something either teen was especially keen to do. Tom was still processing the news himself. Alex had not been willing to contact Tom from the MI6 safe house. It was all too likely that they would be monitoring all communications into and out of the remote manor house. He hadn't trust Tom to be discrete enough under such close scrutiny. Certainly not when faced with such dire news. Alex still maintained hope that MI6 was not aware of Tom's inside knowledge of Alex's circumstances.

On the fourth day in the Pleasures' home, Alex went on a long walk with Sabina to the Presidio. The found a secluded spot where they could still see the Golden Gate Bridge. "Alex," Sabina said, breaking the companionable silence, "school starts in a few days. Maybe we should get away for a few days. Go surfing, or do one of the hikes that we did when you were here last time. Or perhaps…." She paused, and then finished in a slight rush, "Or perhaps, you would like to meet my friends?"

When Alex had been preparing to leave England, he would not have been able to imagine facing new people in a social situation, but this interlude with Sabina and her parents had been a great restorative. After the barest pause, he responded, "Yeah, yeah. I think that would be good to have a few familiar faces around when it is time to start back to class. What are you thinking?"

"Well, my friend Emily is having a Labor Day BBQ. Sort of a goodbye-to-summer thing…"

"That sounds good," Alex responded, nodding.

"So… how do I introduce you?"

"Your father didn't tell you? Allow me to introduce myself, … I'm Alex Pleasure."

"What? So, you're my long-lost brother?" Sabina questioned in a weak voice.

"Wha-? No, no I haven't been adopted. It's just… well, MI6 thought it best if I didn't parade around using my own name. And with the same name as the rest of the household… well, people would assume that-"

"That we were brother and sister. That's just great," she muttered, shaking her head. "I was hoping to introduce you as… as my boyfriend."

A feeling of heat blossomed in his chest. Within moments, he was sure his checks were flushed. "There's no reason… no reason not to. Look, people who want to talk behind your back are going to do so, no matter what. What's the alternative? That you're living with your boyfriend?" He waggled his eyebrows at her, earning a smile.

Sabina sighed. "You're right. Besides, you've faced madmen bent on taking over the world; I can handle some gossip."

It was Alex's turn to sigh. "I've faced both. In some ways, the gossip is harder."

He leaned back on his elbows. "So… boyfriend, huh?" He smiled, the first smile that really reached his eyes since he had arrived. It didn't last long. He sat back up and dangled his hands on his knees. "I tried to tell your father how dangerous it was to have me around. He was having none of it... You were there on Air Force One. You've seen the face of madness. I won't insult you by suggesting you don't understand the danger."

"But you know there is another, more pedestrian danger. We've only been together in fits and starts." He paused, looking for a way to explain himself. "Do you know I was in Grease at Brookland?" Sabina looked confused at the sudden pivot in the conversation.

"Um, no?... Were you any good?"

"I'll never know, I was pulled out and sent to Cairo after... after a sniper attack on my school."

"Oh! Alex!" Sabrina gasped, reaching for his hand.

Alex held her hand in both of his. "But that's not what I was getting at. Are you familiar with the musical?"

"Kind of. I mean, I've seen it on TV, but I really didn't give it my full attention."

"Well, the opening number is called Summer Lovin'. Actually, come to think of it, they sort of ripped it off for the beginning of High School Musical. Two people fall in... in love when they are far from home, away from friends, away from their routines and expectations..."

Sabina looked a little pained. "So, you don't...?"

Alex realized what she thought he was saying. "What? No! No, that's not what I was... I didn't... I just mean that we've had some wonderful holidays together, but you've never seen me in 'real life'." He sighed. "I've never had a girlfriend. I don't know that I'll be a good boyfriend - and you can't go home to get away from me. I know I spend a lot of time thinking about Jack. Plus, MI6 was not my only source of trouble. I have to admit that I tend to be more curious than any ten dead cats. It's not healthy for the people around me."

Sabina brushed the dirt off her hands, and stood up. "Without MI6 in the equation, curiosity is not normally a fatal condition. But, I take your point. We'll need to carve out some time to spend with our friends. Don't worry, we'll make it work."

"That's what your father said."

"Really? Well, if you're going to go out with him, too, then we have a problem..." Chuckling, he took her hand and helped himself to his feet.

Once Sabina's friend Emily had learned that she was bringing Alex, the small get-together got a bit larger. Emily knew that Alex was coming in as a sophomore, so she let her younger brother invite a few of his friends.

Trying to be more sociable than he really felt, Alex was already on edge as he passed through the gate to the backyard where the barbeque was set up. The hostess put down her drink and swept over to the arriving couple. "Sabina! I'm so glad you could make it. And this must be Alex! We finally get to meet the great hero!"

Alex's head snapped to the side to look at Sabina, a faint look of horror on his face. Sabina's brow was furrowed, a look of confusion on her face. Emily looked back and forth at the two of them, and continued, "The car accident?"

Alex's heart was hammering. With this last comment, the image of Jack's car exploding came into sharp focus in his mind. His gorge started to rise as he noticed the other guests attracted by the host's exuberance. This was the "car accident" that was going to explain his need for a new guardian and provide a cover story for some of his many scars.

"Car accident?" Alex managed after a moment.

Emily added, a bit bemused, "The plunge into the icy lake? Surely, you haven't forgotten saving Sabina's life?"

"Oh…. That."

"'Oh, that,' he says. Mr. Modest." Alex suddenly realized that he had never asked Sabina if she had confided in any of her friends about France, Wimbledon, Cray, any of it…. Alex had had Tom. Had Sabina told any of these people? Alex scanned the faces, looking for something – a knowing glint in the eye, a tighter scrutiny… He suddenly felt very exposed. Then Sabina entwined her fingers in his and he determinedly forced himself to relax.

Emily's exuberance had attracted the other guests. Emily introduced Alex around, until she came to a knot of boys that had been standing somewhat apart from the rest of the group. "And this is my brother, Spike, and his friends. Actually, 'Spike' was the dog's name—"

With a roll of the eyes and a long-suffering sigh, Spike interrupted. "We never had a dog. She's been saying that ever since she saw Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. It's nice to meet you, Alex. Hi, Sabina. You look nice." Spike barely took his eyes off Sabina to greet Alex.

"Thank you. Alex, these guys are going to be sophomores, too."

One of Spike's friends jumped in. "Did you really save Sabina's life?"

"Well—" After months of keeping the details of his life close to his chest, his first instinct was to deflect the questions and retreat back into the shadows. But he looked over at Sabina and realized that… that they were together now…. If he retreated into the shadows, he would be taking her with him. "Yeah, I guess I did. Actually, she swam out on her own power. But I did get her dad out. He was unconscious."

They looked impressed. Alex was uncomfortable with the limelight, so he added, "But I was just paying her back. She saved my life when we were surfing. That time I was the one that was unconscious. She dragged me out of the water and gave me the kiss of life." Spike's eyes went round at that.

"Well, if we're keeping score—" Sabina started. Alex didn't like where this was going, so he talked over her. "But the Pleasures are giving me a place to live, so that sort of trumps everything."

The boys wanted the details of the escape from the submerged car. Again, Alex fought the urge to downplay the event. This time he thought of all the little lessons that he absorbed from Ian. His uncle had never sat him down and said "Here, I'm going to teach you to escape from a sinking car." But all the information had somehow seeped in. And knowing what to do had been the difference between escape and panic – and death. He told the story, stressing all the practical details that saved their lives. He saw Sabina shudder and back away with a faint smile. He also saw Spike watch her leave.

"- so make sure you don't hold your breath, or you could damage your lungs. Just hum."

"What about the bends?" Spike asked.

"We weren't down long enough for the gas to work its way into our blood. But good question. Are you a diver?"

"Me? No, but I watch the National Geographic channel."

They asked about the surfing incident. Alex described being cut off by the jet ski dropping into his line. He neglected to mention the man was trying to kill him.

"So, how do you like America so far?" one of the boys asked. Alex thought he was named Sam. "Are you here as part of a cultural exchange?"

The way the other boys immediately froze, looking anywhere but at him, told Alex everything he needed to know about how much they knew. "No. No, I've come to live with the Pleasures permanently. Um, my guardian died and they offered to take me in."

"Your guardian?" Sam asked wide-eyed. Might as well get it all out now, thought Alex.

"Yeah, my uncle died about a year and a half ago."

"Your uncle? What about your parents?" It was unclear whether there was a filter between Sam's brain and mouth. From the expressions on the other boys' faces, it was clear that this was his normal behavior.

Alex looked down. "My mum and dad died when I was a baby," he said softly.

"Jeez, dude. It sucks to be you. Ow!" Spike slapped Sam in the stomach with the back of his hand. "What?"

"Don't you ever know when to shut up?" Spike questioned a little heatedly.

"No, it's OK," Alex assured him. But he was still anxious to change the subject. "So, what's the school like?"

They chatted for a bit about the school. He was pleased to find that he would not have to wear a uniform. Of course, this meant that he would have to figure out what the unofficial uniform was. He really didn't want to stand out any more than he would as the new, foreign kid. But this was the States, he could probably just get away with jeans and t-shirts. He would have to remember to ask Sabina's advice.

It turned out that Spike and Sam were on the JV soccer team. "JV?" asked Alex. Spike answered, "Junior varsity. Um, second string? I don't know how you would say it." It turned out that the coach didn't play many sophomores on the varsity team. "I'm not fooling myself, though. There's no way I'm making varsity this year. Do you play? I thought all Europeans were crazy about soccer."

"Yeah, I play. But I'm a bit off my game, haven't played in a while. My family situation…"

"Well, try-outs are the second week of school. We're already having unofficial practices. If you want to try out, you need to have your sports physical filled out…"

This burst Alex's enthusiasm. He could just imagine the results of a physical. With his luck, Child Services would get called in for suspected abuse… "I don't know. Maybe I should how well I settle in with my academics. I don't know how well my curriculum in England meshes with yours here."

The conversation moved on. Alex slowly began to relax. He liked Sabina's friends. For the first time, he could really imagine settling down and living life as a typical teenager.

As evening arrived, Alex and Sabina were helping Emily clean up from the party. "So, Alex," started Emily, "Sabina tells me you are a pretty good tennis player. Are you going to be joining the team?"

"What, me? No, I don't play competitively."

"Now, Alex," Sabina responded kiddingly, "you always play competitively. You've just never played on a team."

"Huh. I thought you guys met at Wimbledon? You don't have to be a tennis player to qualify as a ballboy? Sorry, ballperson."

Alex looked to Sabina for help; he had no idea how a civilian got to be in the program. Sabina took the question. "Actually, you just need to be fit, and know the rules. They train you. My school supplies a lot of the ballboys. It was quite the thing to do."

Emily cocked her head at Alex, "But you didn't go to Sab's school, right?"

The boy realized that the truth wasn't going to hurt him, so he admitted, "Actually, my uncle's co-worker was on the All-England - you know, Wimbledon - board. He, er, knew my uncle had died, and he thought of me when a slot became available. I figured what the hell."

"And so you met Sabina. I hope you said 'thank you' to him."

Alex grimaced. "You know, the thought never occurred to me." Sabina and he shared knowing smiles.

In a basement half a world away, a man hoisted a file box onto a plain table beneath a single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. He pulled a number of thick files from the box and slapped them on the table in turn. He arranged each so that he could see the labels: Sayle Industries, Point Blanc Academy, Alexei Sarov, …

With a sigh, he began working his way through the first file.

Mrs. Marsden, the guidance counselor, opened the file in front of her. "Let's see what we have here…hmmm…hmmm. Well, my goodness, you have quite the gift of tongues. We struggle to get most students excited with learning a second language. Have you decided which language you are going to take? We offer Spanish, French and Chinese."

"Well, I'm already fluent in Spanish and French…"

"We could put you in a senior class. The Advanced Placement class in each language would be studying literature. Don Quixote and Les Miserables, I believe." Great, thought Alex, a choice between hopeless quests or abject misery… just what I need.

"I'd really prefer to stay with my form… er, class. Perhaps, I could try Chinese."

"We have a number of sophomores who will be starting Chinese this year, but a large portion of the class will be freshman. Is that OK?"

"I think so. Will it be a problem if I change my mind later?"

"Oh, no. With your gift for languages, you really should consider a future in foreign relations!"

Alex exerted enough self-control to keep from snorting, but he couldn't restrain his sarcasm. A bit bitterly, he said, "Not likely. I'm a walking international incident."

The counselor was puzzled by both the tone and content of the comment. "Whatever do you mean?"

Bitterness building on bitterness, he muttered, "I don't think I can explain." Not without violating the Official Secrets Act.

"No, no," the matronly woman pressed. "I'd really like to see the world through your eyes."

Alex suppressed a shudder. "The last person who wanted that, meant it literally," he said through gritted teeth.

In a pedantic tone, Mrs. Marsden said, "Oh, Alex, 'literally' means—" Alex cut her off. "I know what 'literally' means." He took a moment, then added a little more politely, "I'll try to choose my words more carefully in the future."

"Oookay." She wasn't sure what was going on behind those serious brown eyes, but it was clear that the topic had been closed. She continued looking through his file. Together, they made a few adjustments in his schedule. "Thank you for coming in, and we look forward to seeing you when school opens on Monday."

A/N: OK, this is my second fan fiction, and my first multi-chapter one. Reviews are welcome, but I'm horrible about reviewing others', so I'm not going to throw stones. My only shortcoming in writing is dialog. Oh, and pacing. And plotting. And exposition. And characterization. But I'm fairly decent at punctuation and spelling (except I'll probably forget to use British spellings where appropriate). OK, I'm bad, but at least I'm slow - that should spread out the trauma.

I've got several chapters roughed out, and I have a pretty decent idea where I want the story to end up. I'm determined not to be one of those authors that let's the story peter out... But I'm not a fast writer, so please bear with me.