This idea is quite random. I was reading one of the cliché 'Alex goes to live with a member of the SAS or MI6' fanfics, and I wondered 'what would happen if he went to live with someone who's actually semi-normal?' Thus, this idea was born. I apologize if the writing is horrible, as I wrote this in somewhat of a rush.

Disclaimer: Alex Rider will belong to me when Harry Potter swoops down on his broomstick and conjures up a college scholarship for me… In other words, never.

Alex sat in a dimly lit room with bright walls that should've been cheerful, but instead looked like the decorators had tried too hard. A man in a suit sat in front of him, looking uncomfortable with the teen's steely gaze. He had introduced himself as a George Windelle. The conversation had gone something like the following:

George: "Hello, I'm George Windelle, your social worker."

Alex: "…"

George: "And you must be Alex Rider!" At this point, he had stuck out a hand for Alex to shake.

Alex: "…"

George: "We're going to do our best to put you with a good family."

Alex: "…"

And that brings us to our current setting: Alex glaring, and Georgie the guy with very bad taste in suits sitting at his desk uncomfortably.

George cleared his throat. "Since you're 15, we thought that you might like to meet the possible families we could put you with."

"Why are you telling me this if you've got it all figured out?"

George looked surprised that the brooding boy in front of him had spoken. "We just thought that you might like to be involved in the process…"

A sharp chuckle came from the teen. "If you really cared anything about me, I'd be in my own house, emancipated."

George looked uncomfortable, and he tugged at his tie a bit nervously as he answered. "The standard age for emancipation is 16 years old…"

Alex glared "I've lost my whole family, have no living relatives, and you're saying that I'm a year younger then the standard age for emancipation?"

"I'm sorry, but it's not our decision to make."

"No, it is. You just want me to feel powerless and like I can't do anything about my current situation. I don't feel like that, but I know you're not changing your mind anytime soon."

George fidgeted uneasily. "I can't stop you from thinking like that, but I do want you to know that that was not our intention. I do need to know if you want to meet the families."

Alex slumped back in his chair, resigned. "Fine. I suppose I do want some choice. I'll meet the families."

George stood up quickly, so the teenager sitting in front of him wouldn't have time to change his mind. "Sounds good. The first family will be here in five minutes."

After the weirdly cheerful man had left the room, Alex sighed. The position in which they had been in (Alex sitting in a chair, George sitting at the desk), had been dreadfully reminiscent of Blunt's office.

The first thought of Blunt made Alex's jaw clench, and his hands ball into fists. He remembered the man's well, bluntness when discussing Jack. Apparently when Blunt needed a favor, it was expected that Alex had to do it, but when one simple request was made to Blunt, it was ignored.

The teen seethed with anger, glaring at the floor.

He looked up to the door as it opened. A quite plump woman came in, tugging a twiggy looking man, both with black hair.

"Hello, I'm Jeanette McCarthy, and this is Dean, we just wanted to talk to you, and get to know you." The woman introduced herself.

Alex blinked coolly.

"Right, so er…what's your name?" She asked, a little unnerved by the teen.

"Alex."

"Are there any sports you like to play?"

"Football."

"So what happened to make you come here?" The woman asked without thinking.

She flinched as the boy's eyes flared up. "Why do you think I'm here?"

The man, Dean, spoke up. "We know you haven't had the best life…"

"Hey! Look at the time! It just seemed to fly! Now if you don't mind, I have to go to the bathroom." Alex stood up abruptly and left the room. He smiled to himself as he walked through the doorway.

Jeanette and Dean seemed nice enough, but definitely not the type of people he wanted as temporary guardians…he supposed it wasn't their fault… he didn't really want anyone as a guardian now that Jack was…gone…

He mentally slapped himself. Alex had realized long ago that if he thought of her, no matter how insignificant the thought seemed, he would have to suffer through multiple nightmares the following night.

Nightmares that wouldn't stop, nightmares that made him wake up in a cold damp sweat.

Alex banged his head against the wall. What was happening to him? Was his mind aware that he was not a fucking poet? Ah yes, Alex Rider, poet spy extraordinaire….something more impossible then Alan Blunt showing up to work in a pink tutu…

Well, maybe not that impossible….

Lost in his bizarre thoughts, he found himself in front of the elevator. Smirking to himself, Alex stepped inside and pressed the button for the ground floor.

Smiling at a young woman who boarded the elevator, he waited patiently for the little ding that signaled his arrival.

When it came, he exited the building and started walking to the nearest Tube station.

The phone.

The phone was ringing.

The phone was ringing at 5:30 AM.

The phone was ringing at 5:30 AM on a Saturday.

Cursing whoever had invented telemarketers, Alex picked up the phone, ready to hang up the second he heard 'Hello! You're qualified for a free consultation for blah blah blah…', instead, he heard a voice clear their throat.

"Er, hello?" Alex asked uncertainly.

"Uh…hi, um… Can I talk to John Rider?" A male voice asked.

Alex blinked back his shock, sitting up and looking at the phone to see that the number was one he didn't recognize. "Umm…John Rider has been dead for fourteen years." He said slowly.

"What? John's dead? …Guess I can't give him his wedding invitation, huh?"

"Uh, guess not."

"So, if John's dead, who's this?" the voice asked.

"I'm Alex. John's son."

"JOHN GOT MARRIED?" The voice yelled.

Alex winced, holding the phone far away from his ear. "Uh, yeah…"

"Why haven't I met the woman who made the famous John Rider settle down?"

The teenager raised an eyebrow, just who was this guy? "Probably because she's dead too."

"Wow, so you're an orphan?"

"Fifty points to the man who stated the obvious!" Alex said with biting sarcasm. "Wait, so who are you?"

"I'm Steve…I uh, I went to college with John." The man evidently named Steve said.

"…Well, congratulations on getting married I suppose… Wait, if you went to school with my dad, aren't you a little old to get married just now?"

"It's not my first ballgame, I've been married once before…" Steve said.

"Oh…" Alex said awkwardly.

"Listen," Steve started. "maybe we should meet up sometime? I'd love to hear about how my friend settled down."

"I suppose… If you could tell me about him? I never really knew him…"

Steve agreed, and gave Alex his number, and said to call him for anything.

A few minutes later, Alex stared at the phone.

….Did that just really happen?

A day later, Alex was sitting in the same chair, in the same falsely cheerful room, glaring at the same man who wore the same type of ugly suit.

"Now, I know you didn't exactly agree with the other family, but maybe this one will be different!"

Alex just glared.

"I'm going to send them in now, is that okey dokey?" The social worker said slowly, as if talking to an infant.

The teen stared at him oddly. "That sounds wibbly wobbly wonderful." (1)

Apparently, George had no sense of sarcasm. So, he just sent the family in.

Alex stared at the beaming lady and the glaring guy who looked like he ate a gallon-full of steroids every five minutes.

"I just absolutely love the idea of adopting such a cute little kid!"

The teen looked down at himself, and then back up at the lady in slight confusion. He was neither cute, not a little kid.

"Have we introduced ourselves? I don't think we have! I'm Rachel, and this is Rob!"

Rob's hand twitched. Alex stared at him, a bit frightened.

"So, let's get to know each other a bit!" Rachel, the cheery blonde exclaimed. "My favorite animal is a bunny, what about you?"

Alex blinked. "Uh…A fox I suppose…"

"Oooooh! Foxes are so cute! My least favorite is a shark!"

After a moment of silence, Rachel motioned for Alex to answer.

"A crocodile."

"I just adore skiing!"

The corner of Alex's mouth twitched as he remembered Point Blanc. "Surfing is fun, I suppose." Of course, that's only if there's no Chinese Triad absolutely focused on killing you.

"I absolutely love Venice, Italy."

Alex snorted. Of course she'd pick Italy… "I don't really have a favorite city."

"Nonsense! Everyone has one!"

"…San Francisco then…"

"I've never been there!"

The conversation went on and on, and soon Alex began to slowly become a bit more optimistic. Maybe this family would be different…

"My favorite singer is Damian Cray, I can't believe all the things they tried to say about him! He was certainly not a killer! The press just loves insulting dead people! If people could be half as honest and noble as he was, the world would be a much better place!"

Alex's eye twitched. But he let it go, after all, everyone is entitled to their own opinion…

"Do you remember that hotel in space? Angel Ark, or Ark Angel or something… I couldn't believe it when the authorities destroyed it, calling it an International Security Compromise or something… I mean, everyone knows it was just a conspiracy so that the private sector of space travel couldn't be increased!"

Let. It. Go.

Oblivious to Alex's uncomfortable position, the blonde prattled on. "And you know what I really hate? The fact that millions of pounds a year are spent on helping those refugees, and illegal immigrants, and oh my gosh, don't even get me started on those pesky Snakeheads!"

At this Alex's jaw clenched as he remembered the dozens of people hiding out in crates for days on end, as it was their only chance at a better life.

"And do you know how much money a year is spent on the military sectors of our government? Billions! They can't even kill all the terrorists, and we're giving them billions of dollars!"

That was the last straw. His father, his uncle, hell, even his mother (in an indirect way) had given their lives for the fight against terrorists! Not to mention all he had personally done! Alex stood up, placed his hands on the table that separated the couple and him, and glared. "There are hundreds of brave men and women who put their life on the line each day and here you are complaining about how much the government decides to give them? I'm leaving. You're a nice couple and all, but I would be ashamed if I got adopted by people who don't support courage."

The boy was in the elevator by the time the couple blinked. He pushed the ground button floor, and waited for it to get going, but just when it seemed it had started up, a hand stopped the doors from closing.

Alex looked up to see Rob, the silent muscled man who had the most closeminded girlfriend/wife/fiancée Alex had ever met.

"Hey kid, I just wanted to say I wish you the best of luck."

Alex blinked back his shock. "What?"

"Well, someone who stands up for the army can't be all bad, so I'm just hoping you get into a good home…" Rob shrugged sheepishly and Alex smiled slightly.

"Thanks."

And then it was over.

Alex sighed, leaning against the door. It was nice to see that Rob could talk and all, but sometimes he wondered if he would ever get adopted. Not that he wanted to or anything, but if he didn't get a guardian within three months, the government would put him into an orphanage, and his house would get taken away.

…the other option was too terrible to think of.

(1): Stolen from 'Half Moon Investigations' by Eoin Colfer :)

AN: Uh... Hi :) Before you ask, I don't have much of a plan for this story, so I would like some feedback. Where do you want it to go? What do you want to happen?

And perhaps the most important question of all:

What is your favorite food?

Randomly Yours,

-Marie