Hey all, I know it's been a while since I've written an Alex Rider story, but like I promised all my A.R stories to be, this one is about Alex and Ian

This was mainly inspired by Midnight Muse14's amazing story Dead Man Walking, which you must go and read because your life will be incomplete without it XD

Anywho, on with the story! Enjoy!

22 year old Alex Rider pulled himself off the couch as he heard the beeping of his microwave.

He trudged into the kitchen of his condo and pulled a cup of instant noodles out of the microwave. He then tore the cover off the cup and searched the kitchen for a fork. He sighed.

What a day it had been.

It was beyond him how someone as young as himself managed to get run down almost 12 miles by tens of SCORPIA agents, then led on a crazy motorcycle chase(he had taken up riding motorcycles a few years a go when he had found his uncle's old bike) for a few more miles before finally reaching the checkpoint where MI6 had kept a jet at the ready in case of an emergency.

...And that was just before breakfast.

Alex sighed once more before he found himself a fork, shoved it into the cup and trudged back into the living room. He flopped back onto the couch, fished the remote out from the depths of the couch and turned the t.v. on. He frowned uncontently at the screen that showed some dull political talk show and flipped the channel. His frown turned to a grin as some action super hero flick came on. He turned the volume up and settled in comfortably.

He smiled a bit remembering how Jack would have killed him if he had the volume up this high this late.

Jack lived down the block now. Back at their old house. She never did bother to move out of that place. After Alex had turned 18 he needed a new, larger area for his work, research and MI6 possessions. Jack had suggested using Ian's office but Alex found that option unacceptable. Since Ian's death he had left everything as it was; completely untouched. And he didn't want to ruin that. Besides, he'd spent years in therapy convincing himself that Ian's memory was something he could hold onto as a good thought instead of one of sadness and pain. But he knew if he where to step foot into Ian's room and remember what it was when a certain dirty blond, grey eyed man resided in it, all those years in therapy would go down the drain. And suddenly the memory of his uncle would be nothing but images taunting him in his nightmares again.

So he decided since he was 18 anyway he would find a place of his own. And when a fantastic condo like this one went up for sale just down the block, he just had to take it. It had cost a fortune but with the rate that MI6 was showering him with paychecks for the unrealistically horrific missions he was taking, it was nothing. Of course Jack still dropped by every once in a while to free load off of his luxurious things and clean up the mess he called a home so it wasn't all bad. As a matter of fact it was pretty good.

So now here he was, in his enormous condo…all alone.

Suddenly the thought if his loneliness took him over and everything grew very quiet. In his ears, the silence drowned out the blaring t.v and suddenly he felt very alone. Lost in his thought, Alex brought his feet off the cold marble floor and close to himself. And just as he was about to completely recede into the depths of his mind, the doorbell rang out through the entire condo. The melodious tune carried out one full time before it finally occurred to Alex that someone was at his door.

He frowned; who the hell was at his door at ten o'clock at night? For a second he wondered if it was someone from MI6 but then he remembered that Mr. Blunt usually called him up if he needed him. Alex thought about till the door bell went off once more. It was at that point that he lifted himself off the couch, set his cup of noodles of the coffee table in front of himself and began to jog towards the door. He bluntly grabbed the handgun from underneath the shoe rack, hid it beneath the waistband of his pants (just as he was told Ian used to do) and went to the door. He hesitated for a moment before placing his hand on the bronze knob.

He was a very talented and skilled agent only second to his uncle, and he knew how to kill a man in seconds but honestly, it was ten, he was tired (not to mention injured) and he was a bit disoriented. He was just beginning to relax and if he were to be attacked (though he wondered which freak would bother to ring before trying to kill him) at a time like this, he wasn't sure how far he could go without getting hurt.

He sighed and figured he might as well open the door; it was a matter of time before this person broke in anyways. So with a deep breath and a firm grip on the handle of his gun, he wrenched the knob open and his eyes immediately darted to the figure that presented itself behind the door.

But his eyes shot open as he looked up to the face of the person and met the oh so mockingly familiar dirty blonde haired, grey eyed face of Ian Rider.

Alright, so that was chapter 1 for you guys. Please tell me what you thought and whether I should continue it or not. And if there's something you didn't like make sure to tell me(nicely please =]) so I can fix it =]

Oh, plus I thought I'd just let you guys know that Quondam Iterum means Once Again in Latin =] I'm sure you can see why XD

Please Review!!