Chapter 1: Unpleasant Reunion

"Alex, it's great to see you again! How have you been?" Mrs. Jones asked Alex.

They were in her office, a plain cubicle with a dark wooden desk. A silver filing cabinet was against one wall, and a black leather couch against the wall opposite. Mrs. Jones was seated in a black leather office chair, and Alex was in one of the two plain, rather uncomfortable chairs on the other side of the desk. He was fidgeting, but it wasn't just the hard chairs that were making him uncomfortable. "I told you, I'm not doing any more work for you."

The truth was that she agreed with him. She had a soft spot for Alex that didn't show through very often. She knew that she was the only person at MI6 that realized that he was only a kid, however extraordinary he was. She leaned in, as if she was afraid that someone would be listening in. "I agree with you, Alex. You're only 14. You shouldn't be working for us at that age."

Alex was dying to sigh a breath of relief, but he knew it wouldn't be so easy as to expect Mrs. Jones to just let him skip back home, and go back to having a normal life. He was dying for her to say that, though. "I shouldn't be working for you at all."

Mrs. Jones ignored him. "But," the words cut into him. "We can't just let you run off and pretend that all of this MI6 business never happened. You know too much about us, Alex. It's dangerous. To the both of us."

He rolled his eyes, having heard this speech so many times from many different members of MI6. "C'mon, Jones, you know I'm not gonna tell anyone. You know you can trust me."

Mrs. Jones smiled that half-hearted smile that everyone at MI6 seemed to have in common. "I know, and that's not what I'm worried about. It's no secret that we've used you, Alex. You could become a target to lure us in. You know what could happen then…"

"Okay, okay, I get it!" He mumbled.

Mrs. Jones tapped her fingers against the dark wood of her desk. All was silent for a few moments, and then she cleared her throat. "You have an amazing file, Alex." When have I heard that before? He thought to himself. Mrs. Jones was already out of her seat, sifting through the contents of one of the filing cabinets. "Rider, Rider…" She murmured, carrying back a portfolio, and setting it in front of him.

He looked up at her curiously, and she nodded. He had never been allowed to see his own file before. Alex hesitantly ran his fingers over the top of it. The tab read 'Rider, Alex/John'. The file had some of his father's information in it too. Upon opening it, he found a recent photo of himself paper-clipped to the left side.

A pair of cinnamon brown eyes were looking up at him, looking more relaxed and at ease than they had ever been during his period of employment with MI6. His blonde hair was damp with saltwater, and his skin was tan from the Caribbean sun. He didn't recall ever have seeing this picture before, but Alex knew at once the setting of the photo, and the reason his eyes shone with mischief. His friend, or possibly girlfriend, Jessie, had invited him to spend the week in Jost Van Dyke, British Virgin Islands, with her and her family. She convinced Alex to tell her that he was a spy for MI6 Special Operations. That night, on the beach, she had kissed him for the first time. The next morning they went surfing, and, apparently having been drugged by her father, he almost drowned. Lucky for him, Jessie saved his life, and if it wasn't for her, he'd be at the bottom of the ocean. She dragged him out of the water, and gave him mouth-to-mouth on the beach. Apparently there was something with Alex, and encountering dangers in the water, and having a girl that he was all over giving him CPR. Not that he minded of course.

"Are you okay, Alex?" Mrs. Jones asked.

"Huh?" Alex was startled. He hadn't meant to be staring at the picture for so long. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Memories, that's all." He tore his eyes away from his picture, and thumbed through the papers. Records of all his previous "successful" missions.

He shut the portfolio and pushed it across the table, back to Mrs. Jones. He hardly needed a portfolio to remind him of the lethal dangers that he found himself in thanks to MI6.

Mrs. Jones was looking at him fondly. "It'd be a shame to lose you, Alex. You and your dad were our best agents."

Alex shrugged. "First of all, you never had me. And I bet you say that to all the agents who are dying to leave."

Mrs. Jones looked him over for a long moment. "We'll talk again, Alex."

His quick nod lacked any enthusiasm. "Okay." And, feeling he was dismissed, he left the office.

AN: Keep it a one shot or keep going? Feedback is appreciated!