A/N: A short drabble that occurred to me while reading a completely unrelated Alex Rider fic (honestly- I have no idea why it inspired me to write this, I think I'm going mad). Anyway thanks to Isil, and amitai's translation of her story "Statutory" for giving me this idea, although quite how you managed it, I'm not sure. Anyway... enjoy.

DISCLAIMER: I own the Alex Rider series... but only in my dreams.

***

Alex Rider could do almost everything. He was a master at several forms of martial arts. He could hotwire a car, or simply fix what was wrong with them – his own car stood outside, black and forbidding, built from scratch by himself, with all the gadgets Smithers could devise. He was just as good with motorbikes and any other motorised vehicle you cared to name. He could parachute, climb and undertake in any sport- extreme or otherwise. He even played quite a few musical instruments and could sing and dance relatively well, although he endeavoured to never have to after a completely humiliating mission under cover as a cast member of Cats, the musical.

The one thing he could not do is cook.

Unfortunately for Alex, at this particular moment, that was exactly what he needed to do. He had carefully laid the table, chosen the wine and investigated the menu. He had decided on Italian; after all, he thought, there was only so much that one could mess up with pasta. Apparently he was wrong, which would explain the clouds of thick black smoke that now filled the kitchen. He looked in the pan. How on earth had he managed to burn pasta? Over cooking it he might be able to understand, but burning it? He groaned and reached for the phone. It was time to call in reinforcements.

"But Jack!" he exclaimed into the phone.

"Sorry, Alex" came the reply. She didn't sound sorry at all if you asked him. In fact he thought she sounded rather amused. "I'm busy tonight. No can do."

"Fine," pouted Alex.

Next port of call: Tom. He couldn't help either. He had a date with Maria. Alex made a mental note to quiz his friend later on and hung up.

Who else was there? He groaned as he remembered. Really, did he have a choice? He dialled the number, reluctance showing in his every move.

"Hello?" answered a gruff voice.

"Hi, Snake," said Alex nervously. "I-I've got a favour to ask."

"What?" asked Snake, sounding slightly amused. After all, it wasn't everyday that the infamous Alex Rider needed a favour.

"Well… I was wondering if you're any good at cooking."

"Why?" asked Snake. Alex could here the grin in his voice and groaned, slapping his forehead in embarrassment, regret and annoyance.

"I'vegotadate." He mumbled

"Sorry, Cub. Didn't quite catch that."

"I said," began Alex icily, "that I have a date."

"And she is going to be at yours, when?"

"An hour," admitted Alex.

"Ok, I guess I can come and help you out," said Snake. Alex was sure he was smirking.

"Thanks," muttered Alex.

"No problem," replied Snake, expansively, before hanging up.

Five minutes later the doorbell rang and Alex went to answer it. He very nearly shut it again. In fact he tried to and only a heavy boot placed firmly in the door prevented him from succeeding.

"Aren't you glad to see us, Cub?" asked Eagle innocently. Alex scowled as the four SAS members pushed passed him.

"Snake…" he began, halfway between an incredulous question and angry reproach.

"What?" said Snake, proving that he could play the innocent just as well as Eagle.

"Why are they here?" ground out Alex through clenched teeth, gesturing to Wolf, Fox and Eagle.

"You didn't expect us to get left behind, did you, Cub?" smirked Fox. "Especially when you've got a date."

"Aww… Cub has a date!" exclaimed Eagle. "They grow up so fast…" He pretended to wipe his eye. Alex hit him.

"Ow! What was that for?!" asked Eagle, loudly. Alex simply glowered.

"You didn't think we were going to pass up a chance to meet her, did you?" asked Wolf gruffly from the door to the kitchen. Alex groaned and gave into the inevitable – temporarily at least.

"Fine," he snapped. "I'm going to go and get ready."

Fifty minutes late, he came down the stairs, dressed up and really hoping the K-unit wouldn't comment. Eagle and Wolf were in the sitting room and he raised a questioning eyebrow at them.

"Wolf was chucked out of the kitchen," supplied Eagle helpfully. "Something about already-burnt pasta not being supposed to be reused. You didn't happen to have anything to do with that, did you?"

Alex flushed.

"Hey, kid," called Fox from the kitchen. "Looking good!"

Alex winced as he noticed Wolf's and Eagle's eyes widening with mirth.

"What on earth are you wearing, Cub?" smirked Wolf.

Alex scowled. He looked fine. He was only wearing jeans and a top. Of course, he guessed wearing a shirt around the K-unit really was suicide, even a midnight black one like this one.

"Gonna wear a tie with that get-up?" asked Eagle, evilly.

Alex glowered at him. Eagle was taken aback – it was completely Wolf-worthy. The man made a hasty retreat to the kitchen. The kid was, after all, an agent.

He sat in the living room in stony silence, ignoring Wolf to the best of his ability.

Suddenly there was a yell from the kitchen.

"Eagle!" cried Snake. "What did you do?!"

Alex's eyes widened and he started towards the kitchen. But luck really wasn't with Alex that night, for just then, the doorbell rang.

Alex went to answer it. It was the beautiful Dominique: sweet and innocent… and completely unready for an entire unit of SAS troops. Alex spared an anxious glance for the chaos behind him before turning back to Dominique.

"Hi," he murmured, leaning in for a chaste kiss. "I thought we'd go out tonight…"

***

A/N: So what did you think? Come on, please review? It's my first story... and you know what they say about new authors... we wither up and die without love and attention... we need reviews!