A/N: Hello everyone. Long time, no type. Sorry about that. Anyways, I have another chapter for you all, and, also, an announcement.

Those of you, who have read my story Reincarnation, will know about the Alex Rider Fanfiction Awards, but for those who haven't I'll start from scratch.

This year, we're having awards for the best fanfics in the Alex Rider section. You can all nominate fics, one nomination per person, per category. On the forum "The Royal & General Bank" there are threads for nominations for each of the categories. The deadline for nominations is Friday, and I hope you all go over there and nominate your favourites right after reading this chapter (and reviewing, of course!). After all the nominations are done, four judges, including me, will judge the fics. Obviously, if a fic of a judge is nominated, that judge won't have a say in the score of that story. The stories with the most nominations will go for a Reader's Choice Award, and a poll will be put up after the nominations have closed. Please go and have your say, or there won't be anything for us to judge! :(

Anwyays, thank you. And read on!

DISCLAIMER: As usual, I own nothing. Trick and Treat was surprisingly unrewarding on the rights-to-Alex-Rider front.

-o-O-o-

The bank hadn't changed. At all. That was… actually rather depressing, in an intangible, uncertain way that Alex couldn't quite determine the reasons behind.

There were the same stone floors, the same possibly-plastic potted plants at strategic intervals and the same brand of slightly confused customers, always wondering what, exactly, it was that made this bank so strange, constantly trying to place what was different about it. They even had the same damn secretary behind the desk.

"I'm here to see Blunt," he said, flatly.

"I'm sorry-" she began, only to be cut off by Alex's irate snarl.

"Don't give me that bull. Unless you've got a worse memory than anyone could possibly possess, you know that I know he works here."

She scowled at him. "Do you have an appointment?"

Alex scoffed, ignoring Jackal's uncomfortable shifting behind him.

"You don't get appointments to see Blunt. You get told to show up with five minutes warning. Unless you have the guts to demand to see him."

"Very well, do you have ID?"

Alex sighed and rubbed his forehead. "One sec," he said, dropping the bag that he was still carrying to the floor and rummaging through it.

"Will this do?" he asked, handing over his SAS ID. It was the best he could do. MI6 hadn't given him one. He doubted that they actually issued them, given the danger that could put someone in.

She glanced at it, then turned back to typing on her computer.

"Wait over there," she said imperiously, gesturing to a bench on the far side of the reception. "Someone will be with you shortly."

Shortly, it turned out, actually meant somewhere along the lines of in an hour, or sometime this evening, or whenever-the-fuck-we-feel-like. Whatever it had meant, it was dark when someone finally approached them, and the reception had emptied of all the customers.

It was a young man who came to them. Alex had never actually spoken to him, but he'd passed him more than a few times. He thought he was Mrs Jones' personal assistant.

"Mr Rider?" asked the man, with a polite smile, "My name is William. If you will please follow me?"

All too soon, and after far too long a wait, Alex found himself facing the two heads again. Jackal had remained downstairs, and for some reason, Alex felt himself missing the comforting presence at his shoulder. When had he become so dependent upon others?

"Agent Rider," greeted Blunt.

"I'm not an agent anymore, Mr Blunt," said Alex, politely, as he took a seat.

"Of course, my apologies. To what do we owe this pleasure, then?"

"K-Unit and D-Unit have disappeared," explained Alex. He was sure they knew, certain they had pieced together his motivations and already had their price planned. "I can't just sit idly by – not when they did so much for me."

"Of course you can't," said Mrs Jones, warmly. It contrasted sharply with the slight spasm in Blunt's face that implied that he would have been only too happy to let both units die, if only it had been before they cost him his favourite weapon.

"I need weapons, transport and… information," he admitted, forcing himself not to lower his gaze from theirs. He wasn't a child to be manipulated any longer. Nor was he begging for a favour. He knew they would exact their price, their pound of flesh. It was simply a negotiation.

Blunt steepled his fingers. "You understand, of course, that MI6 has no jurisdiction over SAS units, and barely any influence since the events that spelled your… separation from us."

"I know."

"It would be no easy feat for us to acquire this information."

"I know."

From then on, it was just a question of bartering.

-o-O-o-

Alex was surprised to see Jackal still sitting in the reception when he went back down.

"Hey," he said, shooting the soldier a faint smile. "I figured you would have gone home by now – you live in London, right?"

"You weren't all that long," said Jackal with a smile. "Those bastards co-operating for once?"

"Sort of," said Alex with a one-shouldered shrug.

"Listen, kid, where are you staying tonight?"

Alex blinked, and cast his mind around for an answer. "I guess I'm going to go to Wolf's," he admitted after a moment.

"It'll be locked," pointed out the soldier.

"I can pick locks easy enough," said Alex dismissively.

"Why don't you just stay at mine?" asked Jackal. "I'd feel better knowing you weren't on your own, right now, and I know the guys wouldn't mind."

Alex bit his lip. He could imagine Wolf's flat: cold and dark and uninviting; nothing in the fridge or cupboards and every scene a reminder that Wolf wasn't there. It was a tempting offer. On the other hand, he had things he had to do tonight, things that Jackal certainly wouldn't approve of.

But, it wouldn't be that hard to sneak out of, surely? They weren't trying to keep him prisoner, after all.

"Thanks," he said, accepting the offer with a genuine smile. "Do you live far from here?"

"Not too far," said Jackal. "Come on, I'll show you."

-o-O-o-

It took ten minutes in the car. Alex had a feeling it would be quicker on foot, thanks to several potential shortcuts where the car couldn't go, but he didn't really care enough to ask.

The house itself was a pleasant, four-bedroomed affair spread over three floors. The ground floor was given over to an open plan living area, with a small room off it that seemed to be a mixture of a library, study and general sitting area. Apparently, the four soldiers referred to it as the snug, which he supposed was apt but still made him grin a little in amusement. It was in this small, cosy room where Alex would be staying – on a sofa bed that, when opened, took up almost the entire room. He was guessing they didn't have guests much.

But it was comfy enough; the mattress was so soft he very nearly gave up right then and there to spend the rest of the week in bed. It was a shame he wouldn't be getting much sleep that night.

It was just the two of them downstairs when they got in, but by the time Alex had dumped his bag, Cougar had appeared from upstairs and Hawk and Otter had barged through the door with some groceries. All three slowed down considerably when they saw him, coming to a halt in front of him.

"Jaguar," said Hawk, quietly.

"Hey," said Alex with a brief smile.

"What are you doing here?" asked Otter. "You should be in school, shouldn't you?"

"Jaguar will be staying with us for a few days," explained Jackal, quickly.

"It's just while I get a few things sorted out," Alex reassured them. "Then I'll get out of your hair."

"That's not what I meant," said Otter with a sigh. "You're doing something stupid, aren't you?"

"No!" protested Alex, at the exact same moment as Jackal growled a 'yes' through clenched teeth.

Alex glared at him and Hawk sighed. "Come on," said the medic, grabbing the shopping. "We can discuss it over dinner. Want to help me cook, Jag?"

If he's honest, Alex really didn't feel like eating, knowing what he had to do later, but lying was all too natural to him, so he nodded amicably and followed Hawk into the kitchen.

Dinner was tasty enough, perhaps not up to Snake's – whose mother had been a chef and so had been cooking since he could hold a spoon without dropping it – standard, but it was filling and warm, and if Alex couldn't remember exactly what he'd eaten or what they'd spoken of, it passed unnoticed. It was only after they had all finished that the conversation turned to Alex's presence.

"So, why aren't you in school, then?" asked Otter, leaning back in his chair and eying the teen speculatively.

Alex shrugged. "My friends and my legal guardian have gone missing. I would have thought it would be obvious."

"You cannot be serious! You're going after them? You have no idea where they are or who took them! You don't even know what they were doing!" That was Cougar, ever quick to speak his mind, sometimes too quick. He'd been disciplined more than once for not thinking before he spoke.

"And so you expect me to leave them to rot?" growled Alex, his eyes flashing with anger.

"Look, guys," said Jackal, dropping his forehead briefly into his hands before running his fingers through his hair and leaning back. "Me and Jaguar have already had this conversation. We can't stop him. We can only help him as much as we are able."

"Help me?" repeated Alex, nonplussed.

Jackal raised an eyebrow. "You didn't think I'd let you go alone, did you?"

Alex gave a slightly disbelieving smile.

"Thanks."

-o-O-o-

It was near midnight when Alex got up, still fully clothed and snuck out of the window. Jackal might have offered to help, but if Alex had his way, he would never know about this.

-o-O-o-

A/N: So what did you think? Review and tell me! And don't forget to go and nominate your favourite story!