A/N: Because really, how many things in the AR fandom are overdone? The idea for this fic, and the layout, comes from Musafreen's "Ghost King's Bane."
Title: Return of the R1D3R
Summary: When Alex Rider, spy extraordinaire, comes back to school, every head turns. Because really, he's such an interesting case... Something of a parody.
Rating: K+
Characters/Pairing(s): Alex, Tom, OCs
Warning(s): Mentioning of drug abuse
Words: ~900
Disclaimer: All property pertaining to AR belongs to Anthony Horowitz.
Return of the R1D3R
The Bully
Ew, so was that Rider that just walked through the door? Oh no, it is.
Wish he never came back. Stupid Rider and his damn nobleness. Everything was fine while he was gone. But everyone knows that you can't pick on the little 'uns when Rider's around, or he'll beat you up like he did to Michael Cook.
Damn Rider.
-AR-
The Popular Chick
Oh, so like, Alex Rider's back? Okay, so he's hawt and all, but totally off limits. Clarissa would laugh at me if I said I wanted to go out with him.
And like, isn't he a druggie? That's what everyone's saying about him.
Ooh, look at that bruise on his face! Damn it makes him look dangerous and sexy. He's sexier than Mark lookin like that.
But wait. He's like, off limits. Oh well, he's still got some killer abs. Mmm…
-AR-
The Teacher
I hope Mr. Rider actually plans on staying in school this term. But who am I kidding? Two weeks in he's going to mysteriously disappear again with malaria or something, and he's not going to come back until the very end of term.
Better yet, who is he kidding? Everyone knows that no one can be that ill. What silly excuse is he going to use next time? HIV?
GCSEs are next week. I'll be keeping a close eye on that Rider.
-AR-
The Druggie
If those rumours about Rider are true, I am so gonna find him later! Think I'm running low on acid…
-AR-
The Scorpia Agent
It's Rider! He's here, defenceless! Must call backup!
He won't know what hit him until it's too late.
I'm going to enjoy capturing and torturing him. How I'd love to knock him out and beat him to a pulp! I hope the board lets me rip out his nasty lying little tongue for back talking to me in Venice…see how well little Rider likes that.
He-he-he. Where's my transmitter?
-AR-
Tom Harris
I'm glad Alex made it back in one piece. Wonder where they sent him this time? Probably to Russia, or the Antarctic. There's got to be a few bombs hidden at the South Pole.
Hey, is that a bruise on the side of his face? Wonder where he got it. Oh dear, it's probably from Scorpia. Or the Snakehead gang. Or maybe even the KGB.
I hope he's feeling better than he's looking, 'cos that's one helluva bruise on his arm too. And is he limping? MI6 better not send Alex on another suicide mission anytime soon. He owes me five pounds, and I intend to get those five pounds.
Uh oh, that janitor's acting weird…
-AR-
The Random Girl
He's so gorgeous, walking down the aisle like a graceful dancer. I've known Alex since the sandbox days; we were best buddies and I can say that he's only grown more beautiful since then.
The way his soft blond hair falls in messy disarray across his forehead is the epitome of beauty. And his eyes! They're deep and brown and sad, and when I look in them, it feels like he's looking through my soul. His luscious lips are full and pouty; I want to kiss them.
He's hurt; I can see him limping a bit, even though most people probably can't tell. He's good at hiding it. It must hurt a lot. I just know that I can make it all better for him.
-AR-
The Spy
My parents were murdered by Scorpia when I was six. I was raised by a Turkish housekeeper who taught me tae kwon do and judo. He taught me six languages other than English. He took me scuba-diving, mountain climbing, surfing, and all sorts of extreme sports. He taught me how to pick pocket and how to hotwire a car. I underwent SAS training, even though girls aren't allowed to. I've been the strongest girl in the class for years, and I'm one of the most successful agents in British Intelligence. I'm beautiful, I'm rich, and I have a tragic past. And when he walked in, I knew.
He's another one. I just know it.
What are the off chances of MI6 employing another fourteen-year-old agent from Brookland? Virtually none, of course. Yet here he is, in the flesh.
He's observant. His eyes trace the room quickly; that's good, he's no idiot. He's also got to be athletic. Look at those muscles. Wait, I am not looking at his muscles. That did not just happen. Okay, so maybe it did. So his attractiveness is a bonus. That's good.
He's looking at me. Why are my insides turning to goo? Maybe it's because – yes, it has to be. He's just like me. His eyes have seen too much. We're kindred souls.
They don't deserve him. This school, MI6, Scorpia, none of them deserve him. He's a legend. And in the flesh, he's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
He looks around again. This has got to be the fastest I've ever fallen for someone. But I can justify that. I really can. We're meant to be with each other; it's obvious. After all, can there be any two people in the world more alike than us? I think not.
I catch my breath, and my heart goes into overdrive. Because Alex Rider is looking at me.
-AR-
Alex Rider
Oh cripes I've left my maths book at home.
A/N: I'm pretty sure "cripes" is old-fashioned, but it's so much fun to say, and so much less vulgar than a lot of the language used today. And my apologies if I'm somehow Americanized something.