A/N: My boyfriend is decidedly irritating. I am currently working on a short sequel for Perfectly Normal, and he's telling me that it's obvious that Wolf and Alex are flirting. I don't know what his school years were like, but when someone told me that I couldn't go out if it was a school night, it was being parental, not flirting! I think he's just obsessed. Of course, he managed to read this series first, so it might have changed his outlook somewhat, but still!

Anyway, my urge to rant has now been satisfied and we can move onto the chapter!

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing that you recognise.

-o-O-o-

After an hour and a half of sleep, Alex was forced to get up. Privately, he cursed Matt to the deepest depths of hell for getting himself caught last night and forcing them both into this situation, but knew that it wouldn't really have made any difference if he hadn't had a class at dawn. He did admit, if only in the privacy of his own head, that he should have stuck with his original plan and simply pulled an all-nighter. As it was, his limbs felt weighed down with fatigue and his eyelids continued to droop.

After a large cup of extra-strong coffee, he managed to regain control of himself and went to wake up Matt. He was gratified to see that the teen looked even worse than he felt.

"Up!" snapped Alex, yanking the duvet off.

Matt groaned and tried to snatch it back, only to fall with a bump on the floor.

"Wha'si'?" he asked, which Alex hesitantly translated to "What is it?"

"You have a lesson with me, now," said Alex, calmly. "Get dressed and meet me in my classroom in five minutes."

Matt swore – in Russian, Alex was glad to note. The boy was finally getting a handle on his cover – and scrambled for some clothes.

Alex turned on his heel and left.

Matt arrived at the classroom at the same time as two of Alex's class. Aidán and Ciro were twins from Spain. They'd been living on the street for as long as they could remember, earning their keep as pickpockets, until one day they'd lifted the wallet of the wrong person. Freaked out by the multiple identities shown by the wallet, the twins had panicked and returned it, though not before the target – a teacher at the school – had realised it was missing. The teacher had been so impressed that they managed to both lift it and return it without getting caught – only being found after an extensive, illegal search of CCTV cameras in the hotel where he was staying – that he had hunted them down and inducted them to the school.

Alex wasn't surprised that they were first. They were fast and sneaky and worked incredibly well as a team. Neither had any paint marks on them, save for a slight spattering on Ciro's heels, which would not count as a shot. Alex made a mental note to scour the most likely route the children would have taken to check for any obvious misses. If there were too many, he'd have to work on their moving target practice.

Dutifully, he marked down their time and sent them for a shower, telling them that they had free time until breakfast but that he would not advise going back to sleep. After the forlorn looks they cast at his now-empty coffee mug, he sighed and handed them the key to the teacher's kitchen.

"Go make yourselves a coffee, then come and give me the key back," he informed them and the two grinned and darted out of the door.

Alex would have been glad to know that he had one of the most contradictory reputations in the school. He's punishments were legendary – mainly due to the love of sleep that all teenagers possessed and his habit for depriving them of it – his exercises were considered both the most interesting and the hardest of any set by teachers and he was loved for the perks he would occasionally allow his students – such as using the teacher's lounge for coffee.

Alex signalled Matt to come forward from where he had been standing unobtrusively in the corner and signalled him to seat down. He'd start off running through the theory. Tonight, he'd get Matt to put it into practice.

-o-O-o-

Sasha was the last of his class to return, and she had more than her fair share of paint spattered on her clothes. He recorded the colours and amounts, then sent her to clean up. By this point, it was only ten minutes until breakfast started and she was looking a little harassed as she left.

When he had finished adjusting the scores to take into account the shots they had each hit and taken, the ranking was hardly a surprise. Sasha was bottom, which was to be expected as her speciality was based in her acting skills. She could become anyone she wanted to effortlessly, and disappear in a crowded street by changing who people saw. It made following her very difficult, but on an exercise such as this it was useless.

Sometimes, Alex felt sorry for Sasha. Her father – rumoured to be the assassin known as The Gentleman – had dropped her off at the school when she was just eight years old, and hadn't been back since. She was one of the very few with family still left alive, and the only one, as far as Alex knew, who hadn't left that family of her own accord.

The twins, despite having been the first to arrive back, had slipped down a couple of rankings because, while they hadn't been shot, neither had they shot anyone else, allowing Amy and a Russian girl called Marsha to beat them, if only by a few points.

About half the class desperately needed to improve their aim, he noted, after surveying the ammo he had collected back in. Whether this had simply been because they were not as careful with paintballs as bullets, or due to an actual deficiency, he wasn't sure, but he wasn't about to take any chances.

He was just making a note of the names when there was a knock on his classroom door.

Curiously, Alex glanced at the clock. Breakfast had started five minutes ago, so whoever it was couldn't have eaten yet. They must have wanted to talk to him before eating, but why?

"Come in," he called and the door was slowly pushed open.

It was David.

Alex hid his grin behind his emotionless-assassin mask and gestured to the spot in front of the desk.

"Mr Petrov," he said. "What brings you here?"

For a moment, David's eyes narrowed, and Alex mentally added a few points to his estimation of the teen in front of him, and made a note to teach him how to control his expression better. But, despite his flaw in showing it, David had recognised the power-play for what it was.

Generally, Alex disliked games of power, but if David wasn't willing to say that he wanted to learn, then he wasn't ready to be taught.

"I want to rejoin the class," said David in a rush. Encouraged, or perhaps intimidated, by Alex's continued silence, he elaborated. "It's just… everyone's talking about you, and the exercises you set. All the other classes are jealous and everyone is improving so much…" He trailed off with a blush.

"Yes…?" prompted Alex, gently.

"I could be the best," said David. "I should be the best, if I can."

"It won't be easy, you know," he warned, and David nodded grimly. He'd obviously expected that.

"Good," said Alex. "Here is a list of the written assignment that you've missed. I assume that you've been keeping up with your… regular studies?" He paused for David's slightly indignant nod and awarded the teen with another smile.

"Ask Amy for her notes – I know she keeps good ones. Tell her I asked her to lend them to you." Privately, he thought Amy might be a little OCD, but it only had the effect of making her a very tidy person. He would keep an eye on it, though; it might turn out to cause problems in her in-character work.

"Go to breakfast," he instructed. "I'll see you this afternoon."

-o-O-o-

A/N: So what did you think? David's coming back to class! :D Ok, so you guys don't really know him yet, but I do, and I like him. I'm sure you will too. :)