Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.

AN: This is just a little something that popped into my head while writing the infiltration of the warehouse for XYXX. (Chapter 13) So it belongs to that verse. (You should probably read it first.)

Warning: Might be a BIT cheesy...

One Shot: Coming home (470 words)

Two years after the events of 'XYXX'

The first thing she noticed upon entering the flat was the smell of something burning on the stove. Most likely yet another failed attempt of his to cook something actually edible.

Leaving her soaked duffel bag next to the door, she silently walked over to the kitchen, dripping a few rain drops on the floor on the way.

Frantically trying to safe whatever was in the pot, he didn't notice her approach until she hugged him from behind, kissing his back softly.

A goofy smile appeared on his face as he turned around to kiss her properly, the cooking disaster already forgotten.

She returned the smile genuinely.

"That (he gestured at his now wet clothes) calls for revenge.", he announced in a disastrous attempt to sound less happy to have her back and actually scowl.

She crooked an eye brow at his words. "Oh, really? What did you have in mind?"

"Hmm... Let me see...", he acted as if he had to think hard. "An all-out tickle war?" His eyes sparkled with mischief.

Her smile widened. Trust him to help her forget not even five minutes after coming home.

"You're so on."

Consequently, a five minute chase around the flat followed, ending with her letting him catch her and both of them laughing.

He carried her (to her dismay) to the bathroom, holding her tightly to his chiseled chest.

She tried to soak in as much of his unique scent, a mixture of aftershave and something else that she couldn't name, of his warmth and laughter as she could.

He sat her on the counter, examining what was visible of her wet body for injuries.

Gently he helped her out of the dripping wet jacket, to reveal a white bandage a little over her left wrist.

He acknowledged all of the bruises, kissing them gently, the cuts and bandages.

Then he bend down to kiss her lips, her cheeks, her closed eyes, every single centimeter of her face as if he was making sure she was real.

That she was still alive.

It had developed into some kind of homecoming ritual.

She pulled him closer and let her head rest against his chest, relishing in his physical and emotional warmth.

He hugged her back, while continuing to kiss her head with feathery lips, for now content just to hold her in his arms again.

"I love you.", she whispered into the crook of his arm, eyes still closed.

"I love you too.", he mumbled in her hair, breathing in the faint smell of her perfume.