The bus rumbled and bumped along the road that led out of the SAS training camp in Brecon Beacons, Southern Wales, heading to Cardiff and after that London. It was a four hour boring ride with no stops, if you had to go to the bathroom there was a cramped lavatory on board that smelled of week old shit any time of the day.
Joel Ward made the journey four times a year, taking a month's break twice a year to go back home to a quaint home with a nice view of the English countryside where his mother kept the house tidy and trained a Doberman/German Sheppard mix, aptly named Griselda, to hate the male species.
Every year, this one being no different, Joel hunched in his seat, ignored every other passenger getting time off for one reason or another, and fell asleep. He slept the entire ride, heedless of the bumps the bus jerked over or people making fools of themselves, preparing for a vacation of idiocy and no self-discipline.
The bus, rather ironically, always dropped most of them off before the Royal & General Bank on Liverpool to find their separate ways home and the rest somewhere else, Joel didn't know and he never bothered to find out.
This is where Joel would wake up, slowly and aware of his surroundings the second his eyes blinked open the first time, lumber off the bus, grab his duffel from under, and hail a taxi.
The drive to his house was always boring, he'd memorized it long ago and could recount everything that passed in perfect detail with his eyes closed, so he slept then as well. The driver woke him up when city turned to urban and they arrived at his small, cobble stone abode.
He payed the driver, grabbed his duffel from the trunk, and walked up the small, pebbled path, which his mother had bordered with spring flowers that year, to the door. Joel never had to knock on the door for his mother, a slim, dark woman with an insane amount of bushy black hair, held back most often by a solid colored ruffled hair tie, named Lois, because Griselda the hell hound always beat him to it.
A frenzy of harsh barking and fierce growls started the second Joel's boot clad feet met the 'welcome' mat before the door. The large black man sighed and rubbed his hairless head, he was going to put that mutt down when his mother was out shopping and gossiping with her friends one fine Saturday afternoon.
This is usually when a women's voice would soften the barks and growls and Joel would hear the lock click. His mother would open the door with a smile and 'Joel m'boy!' spoken in an accent born from her Mali roots mixed with the Queen's English being introduced when she was a mere 16 and just arrived to London.
Then Joel would smile back, say 'Mother' in a clipped tone from being too used to the SAS way of speaking, and he would be allowed inside where Griselda would ignore him with a haughty air and Lois would make a pot of tea and demand that Joel burn his dirty army fatigues because 'no son of mine is allowed to have a pair of those in his dresser when he can buy a new, perfectly clean pair before he goes back!'.
Usually. That is not what happened after the litany of man-hating barks and growls sounded from behind the closed door.
Instead of hearing his mother calm the beast, Joel tensed immediately upon hearing a male voice tell the dog to 'Kindly shut up' who promptly fell silent. The lock clicked, as it was supposed to, and the door opened with a flourish.
"Jo-!" -BAM-. Isaac didn't wait to see the identity of the man who opened the door, his training kicked in and before the stranger could finish saying his name he'd already slammed his fist into the torso and the stranger collapsed a few feet away.
"Mother?" Joel called out, ignoring the fresh round of barking he'd gotten out of Griselda and noting in the corner of his eye that the stranger had blond hair and tanned skin.
"Joel you're ho-!" his mother's head poked out from the doorway leading to the kitchen and she curt herself off upon seeing the mess in the entryway. "Oh dear, I probably shouldn't have sent him to open the door, eh?"
"Mother, who is he?" Joel asked in a calm, not-panicking voice and pointed to the crumpled male who, upon further looking, appeared no older than 20. "Should I be calling the cops now?"
Lois blinked then laughed in amusement. "Oh, honey, it's okay. Of course you wouldn't recognize him at first, he has been out of your life for six years now." She flapped a hand at him then frowned at the blond on the entryway floor. "Alex, dear, if you don't get up Griselda's going to mistake you for a toy and probably chew on your ear for a few."
"Yes'm." the male had a voice that rang bells in Joel's head, but he couldn't place the source. When the blond stood up with a wince, being punched in the torso with at least 20 pounds of force going at least 20 miles per hour was going to bruise for sure, he was only up to Joel's collarbone. "Hello, Sergeant."
Joel blinked. "Excuse me?" he asked and narrowed his eyes at the man standing a few feet before him. Blond hair, brown eyes, a face that made girls sigh… "Cub?"
"So you do know him, I was having my doubts at first but he was being followed by a man with a knife, so I let him in, Griselda took care of the man, of course, and the kid said that he knew you from Becon Beacons, so I let him stay. I'm happy to hear he told the truth." Lois said in relief then smiled brightly. "Right, let's take this reunion to the kitchen, I put a pot of earl grey on and bought some of those double chocolate chip cookies that you loved so much as a kid, Joel."
Joel blinked, even his trained and hardened thought process was failing him in the face of this sudden, strange situation. So he fell back on his 'Sergeant' side. "State your name and business." He barked at 'Cub', who was still standing in front of him.
"Alex Rider; free loading off your mom for a couple weeks." Cub straightened his shoulders and looked directly in front of himself as he answered, Joel couldn't the nugget of pleasure that plunked itself in his heart at the sight that his training was still ingrained in the kid after six years.
Then he frowned.
"How did you find my house?" he asked, but Cub was saved from answering as Lois shouted from the kitchen.
"The longer you make me wait in here, the longer I'm letting Griselda go at you next time she feels like playing!" the dog growled in agreement as if she really understood and Joel narrowed his eyes in return.
"Dog doesn't scare me." He muttered under his breath and followed Cub into the kitchen where he intended to wring the boy of all the answers to his questions, among which was: What are you doing in my house? How did you find my house? Get out of my house. With a couple 'Fucking's and 'Hell's thrown in for emphasis.
Disclaimer: I don't own it. Any of it. Although, I would not mind owning the big black awesomeness that is Sergeant. *happysigh* I don't even own the name, if yah get what ah mean *nudgenudgewinkwink*
This was a story born from an idea that should be a Sergeant/Alex ficlet, after discussing how much awesome Sergeant is made of with ObsessivelyOdd. I don't know how long this story will be, I do know that the mother won't be a big part, but the dog prolly will be. So go cry a river of happy. Mmmm'kay?
SLASH. No like-y, no read-y. Still read-y? Oh boo-hoo. Don't complain jus' cause it offended yer de-li-cuht sensibilities. Thaaaank you!
-Fridgeworks
p.s. why isn't the character 'Sergeant' up for the bidding? Jeez, you'd think in this world someone would've already thunk it.
