Hello fellow Fanfiction lovers! Here's my second fanfiction story- Alex Rider/Twilight crossover. It's a bit of an odd combination, but we'll see how it turns out. It might be a short story, or it might go forever, we'll see. Follow and review please!

Disclaimer: I don't own Alex Rider or Twilight. If I did, I could buy myself that electric drum kit I have my eye on with no problems whatsoever.

Bella's POV

It's been two years since the Cullens abandoned me in that godforsaken forest. Two years since my 'zombie' and 'psycho' periods. And two years since the biggest damned emotional turnaround on the face of this cruel, cruel, Earth.

I was sad at first. Actually sad is the biggest understatement made in the entire First World- I was full on fucking depressed. Thanks to Jake and the pack, I was able to heal, direct my feelings towards something constructive. The only thing I feel towards those bloody talking statues is anger. Pure, raw, untamed anger. It makes my job a whole lot easier, blaming everything on them.

Once I graduated, I moved to London. I finished top in my class- even in sport. Post-puberty/Cullens Bella is a whole lot more athletic than Pre-puberty/Cullens Bella. I'm actually really fit now.

I taught myself some new languages- Spanish and Russian, simply because I could. I actually have a real affinity for languages- I'm currently teaching myself Japanese and Italian, and plan on learning Arabic and French.

I also took up martial arts. After the whole bloodsucker fiasco, I was, well… paranoid as hell. I now know jujitsu and am learning karate. I can look after myself just fine from rapists and murderers now- who the hell needs sparkly vampires looking out (stalking) them? Not me!

As I mentioned earlier, I had a BIG emotional turnaround. In this turnaround, I got a job. Not your usual job, mind you. Because little Bella Swan, poor, feeble, innocent Bella Swan, is a spy for MI6.

I apparently have a talent for interrogation and manipulation. That's code for seduction and torture, in case you were wondering. Post-puberty Bella had a few more… developments, in addition to everything else. MI6 also gave me a little plastic surgery to make me a little more… adaptable. Not much, but enough. Puberty plus plastic surgery equals better boobs, butts, abs, cheekbones… a terrorist in Taiwan described my as "drop dead gorgeous". Of course, then he tried to kill me, as all psychopathic nut jobs do. In fact, if it weren't for my partner, I'd be very, very dead.

My partner is something of a celebrity among the universal intelligence community. He has a 100% success rate, unparalleled abilities, GREAT aim, and a charismatic personality to boot. Alex Rider. The world's one and only 16 year old super kid is MY partner. He's the wit and the muscle of our crime-fighting power-duo. I'm the brains, don't really like to get my hands dirty, but I don't mind utilizing the equipment that Smithers didn't provide me with if necessary. A far cry from Fuckward's meek little virgin. I've become a little more vindictive and aggressive as well.

Alex and I are the youngest partnership in MI6's history. 16 and 20. Both orphaned, both angry, both deadly and both have something to prove. We get on really well- in fact, we even live together, kind of like siblings. Alex is still attending Brookland Comprehensive, however patchy his attendance may be, and legally needs a guardian. Enter me. I'm posing as an English teacher at Brookland- MI6 created that cover for me. It's just as well, seeing as I haven't actually got a degree. We have a good routine. I cook, he cleans, and he recycles my old essays whilst I learn everything I can about karate from him. It's good, pretty nice actually, to have a relationship with someone that is entirely detached from my life in America and the messed-up problems that the supernatural brings.

Charlie. Renee. Victoria got to them first, prompting my hasty departure from Forks while Jake ripped apart her ice-cold corpse. I've toughened up a lot since being abandoned in the woods like a dead rabbit that wasn't fit for eating. I almost want to see Edward Cullen again, just to rub in that I blatantly disregarded his parting instructions to me and became my own person, not his pathetic little plaything.

"Bells?" Alex peered around my bedroom door hesitantly, rousing me from my thoughts.

"Yeah?" I respond absently.

"Have you seen the time? We need to get going or Mr Bray will have both our heads on a silver platter, and I'm already this close to being kicked out." It's true. Mr Bray said himself that "if Alex causes any more trouble, he will have no choice but to permanently remove him from the premises". What a damn tosser. Seriously, who says that? "Permanently remove from the premises"? Just say expel like everybody else. Save valuable oxygen.

"You're right. We better get going. We'll grab McDonald's on the way." I really hate McDonald's, but it's cheap and fast, and that's what I need right now. Snatching up our respective bags, Alex and I make our way to my car. It's a nice car. A black 1973 Ford Mustang, fully restored and full-on sexy. None of the other staff have anything so fancy. I also have a second-hand Harley Davidson and Alex has an Audi, but we usually prefer to ride together. Our combined inheritances plus our pay checks means that we can afford to splurge on expensive vehicles. Alex plans on buying a 1967 Camaro in sky blue when he graduates.

Sipping our drive-through coffee, the pair of us make our way across the school car park, and are met halfway by Alex's best friend, Tom Harris. Good kid, he is. Got some serious family problems though- he crashes on our couch more nights than not these days. He's funny, and he's stuck with Alex through all the shit that he's had to go through.

"Hey Tom." I grin at him.

"Hi Bella- I mean, Miss Swindon," Tom eyes the nearby student carefully, making sure that no one heard his slip-up. I really hate that fake last name, but that's what my cover is. Isabella Swindon, 24-year old American-British English teacher with a degree in Literature and Community Relations.

It wouldn't do if people found out that Tom and I are so close. Brotherly love it may be, but the executive wouldn't like it too much. They're all prone to gross overreaction.

"See you later you two," I leave Tom and Alex, who have already initiated a fast-paced conversation about the England-Australia cricket test currently occurring. Entering the staff room, I find that the morning staff meeting has already begun without me.

"So kind of you to finally join us, Bella," Mr Bray says. How very rude of him.

"You're very welcome, sir." I retort, almost as though I'm a student myself. I take a seat at my desk up gaze innocently at Mr Bray's disapproving face. Oh, this is too much fun.

"As I was saying before we were… interrupted, we have some American exchange students joining us today. They will be entering Years 10 and 11 and will be with us for a period of one year. I expect that you will all make them feel welcome." Condescending dick, speaking to us like children. Grow up already.

The bell rings for first period. The other teachers all collect their belonging, me along with them. I'm timetabled in for Year 10 English first period- Alex and Tom's class. Always a laugh. I hope these new kids don't mess up the friendly, productive dynamic my class has going on.

My class immediately calms down as I enter the room, death stare switched on. Only Alex doesn't look scared out of his wits, instead has his Bella's-using-her-spy-skills smirk firmly plastered on his face. In an instant, I turn into a cheery, happy teacher, greeting the kids with a smile.

"Morning everyone!" I greet the class.

"Morning Miss!" They chirp back at me.

'I have some news from our favorite headmaster today. I have recently been informed that some American exchange students will be joining Years 10 and 11. After spending four years in an American high school, my only words to you are that I pity you. American teenagers suck big time, but you will have to learn to deal with it." Some of the students look a little apprehensive, but one kid sticks up his hand and asks what their names are.

I'm just about to tell him that I don't know when the door opens, cutting me off mid-sentence. It takes every ounce of spy self-control in me to not jump out the window screaming blue murder. I quickly arrange my features into a teacher-ly, borderline emotionless expression before anyone notices my shock. Other than Alex, of course, he doesn't miss anything.

Why was this necessary?

Because through the door of classroom 10-C walked three pale, exquisitely beautiful, yellow-eyed beings.

Fuck.