Warnings: slash, minor character death (OC)

Rated: T

This chapter goes out to Op-fan. Thanks for everything - hope you enjoy!

It was dark outside. Pitch black, the overhanging clouds blocking out the silver moonlight and the dotting stars. The fog blotted out the streetlights. It was the wee hours of the morning, so the surrounding buildings were blacked out. Curtains drawn, lights off. It seemed the whole world was asleep, except for Alex.

He had woken from a nightmare - those never seemed to go away, but they also didn't scare him so much anymore.

Yassen was fast asleep. The man had just gotten home from a short business trip. Nothing unsavoury, just a little help with security. Those kinds of jobs seemed to pop up more and more since they retired - or maybe Yassen was just making an effort to pick the jobs Alex would approve of. Either way, it was much appreciated.

It was also much appreciated, having Yassen back in his bed. Such a relief that Alex hadn't even bothered to wake Yassen about his nightmare. The man deserved his sleep. God knew he needed it.

Alex crossed to the sink pouring himself a glass of water. He leaned his elbows on the countertop, drinking and staring out the window. The clouds and mist swirled and stitched together, covering London in a thick, fluffy blanket.

He squinted his eyes, trying to see the building across the street through the wall of inclement weather. All grey and dark and… red?

Alex blinked, leaning forward more. Then his eyes widened, his breath caught, and he threw himself to the floor a split second later.

The glass in his hand shattered against the tile floor - Alex squeezed his eyes shut as the chips and shards flew around him. His cheek stung. Water splashed him and spread in a puddle around him.

Not seconds later, the window he had been gazing out of exploded. It didn't make as much noise as he thought it would. Alex covered his head as the sharp pieces rained down on the kitchen floor. A bullet hole appeared in the wall, right around Alex's height.

There was a resounding crack down the hallway, and Yassen appeared in the doorway. Eyes wide and a handgun at the ready. Blue eyes took in the scene - the busted window and glass-covered floor. Alex sprawled on the ground with his hands over his head.

Alex shouted for him to get down just as Yassen dropped. A bullet buried itself in the cabinet next to him. A red dot appeared on the wall. Fog drifted into the room. Alex saw the laser, pointed arrow straight into the room. Roving, looking for a target. Zigzagging before vanishing.

Alex didn't dare move, though his body screamed to go next to Yassen. Yassen stayed frozen too. Between the two of them was an open gap, they would be sitting ducks if they tried to cross it.

Alex drew his legs up, scooting back over the glass to lean against the drawers. He yanked open the handle of the cupboard under the sink. A gun was taped to the top, and he quickly freed it. He felt a little less helpless armed.

His eyes met Yassen's. A conversation passed between them, and Yassen inched back down the hall.

In the corridor, some circular mirrors hung as decor. But - like most things in their flat - they had a bonus purpose. Yassen quickly reappeared, a mirror in hand. He found the right angle, then thrust the reflective piece into view of the window.

It was barely a few seconds before a bullet found the mark, and the mirror shattered to pieces, but that was enough. In the reflection, he traced the laser beam back to its source. He could just barely make out two figures through the fog. Within the space of a second, Alex was on his feet, gun pointed.

It was a long distance - and awkward with a handgun that wasn't exactly made for long-range. Still, Alex was an excellent shot, an instinctive shooter, and trained by Yassen Gregorovich himself. He didn't even hesitate - just took aim at one of the figures and shot.

His gun shifted less than half an inch and he pulled the trigger again. Two figures dropped within seconds of each other.

Alex knew the shots were good before they even hit the mark - so he had already ducked for cover. Yassen glanced out and nodded, confirming that both people had been downed. Maybe not killed - that could not be guaranteed through the fog - but they definitely would not be troubling them for the moment.

Yassen crossed the gap to Alex, helping him brush off the glass that clung to him. They clattered to the kitchen floor, making a noise like little bells.

Once Alex had been suitably cleaned up, a steely look entered Yassen's eyes. "Wait here," he ordered.

Quick as a cat, and equally as silent, Yassen turned and walked from the apartment. Alex paused for a moment, then completely disregarded Yassen's warning and followed him out.

He was treated to an irritated (but not at all surprised) look when he caught up with Yassen outside.

Together - shoeless and in their pyjamas, Alex realized - they shoved in the crooked door of the building across the street. The building had been a bank that was converted to housing, only to be closed down a year ago for 'renovations' that never seemed to happen.

They were met with a steep flight of stairs. Yassen led the way up, his gun poised by his side. Alex knew the man could sight, aim and fire in the space of a heartbeat.

At the top of the flight they found the door facing out to the street. Perfectly in sync, they kicked the door in, guns up ready to…

"What the fuck, Cub?" Alex froze, his gun dipping in surprise. "What, you going to shoot me again?"

He froze, and felt Yassen do the same beside him.

The scene in front of him was… odd to say the least. One man, dressed in black and not someone Alex recognized, was lying on the ground with a bullet in his chest. Blood still bubbles weakly from the wound, but the man did not move.

A few paces away, a more familiar group of men crouched in a haphazard circle. The shortest of them was sitting in a pool of bright red, clutching his arm. He glared at Alex through pain glazed eyes.

"Oh," Alex said softly, lowering his gun. "Sorry, Wolf."

Wolf just snorted angrily and mumbled under his breath about 'stupid teenage spies' as if he had an abundance of experience in that area. To be fair, he certainly had more than most.

"What are you doing here?" Alex asked. Certainly, it was not a coincidence, his old unit showing up.

"Getting shot by ungrateful teenage brats, it seems," was the mumbled reply. Alex decided to give Wolf a pass for rudeness, considering Alex had just shot him.

He turned to one of the other men, hoping for a more elaborate response. Eagle was standing a bit to the side, giving Snake and Fox room to patch Wolf up. He cocked an eyebrow at Eagle in a questioning expression.

"We got a tip, from MI6, that someone might be targeting you. We've been staking out your flat for a couple of days, hoping to catch this guy."

Huh, Alex thought, eyes flicking between K unit and the - now dead - body on the floor. He raised an eyebrow at Fox: who is he?

"We aren't sure," Fox answered. "He seems to be an independent contractor, but someone must have hired him. We don't know who."

"Load of help you lot are," Alex snorted.

"Well," Wolf bites out from his spot on the floor. "We had planned on detaining and questioning him. But I don't think we will get much out of him now."

Alex shrugged and glanced at Yassen, who had a look in his eyes that Alex knew the meaning of.

"We can try…"

Alex ignored the four incredulous looks he received and leans over the dead body. Attempting not to get blood on his hands as he dug through the black combat jacket and its millions of pockets.

Briefly, he glanced over his shoulder. Yassen is standing, arms crossed, gun loosely gripped. Leaning forward to watch Alex search - supervising. "Care to give me a hand?"

Yassen shrugged like not really, but unfolds his knitted arms. "Didn't think we should both get our hands dirty," Yassen jests, kneeling across from him.

Quickly, they find a brick-like cellphone in the dead man's trouser pocket. It should be easy enough to hack into. Alex waves the prize at the four others. Wolf seemed to have calmed down - Alex is pretty sure he saw Snake slip him some little white pill.

Sitting on the couch of his flat, dressed in sleep clothes and surrounded by blown glass, Alex feels uncomfortably vulnerable. Especially with four soldiers perched on various stools and tables around them, while MI6 agents scour through his private life.

He is pretty sure Agent Simmons has just found the Glock hidden in his underwear drawer.

"Is all this really necessary?" Alex asks. When he had said MI6 could take a look at what they had found, he had not meant that a posse of CSI's could paw through his delicates.

"Someone is trying to kill you, Cub," Fox reminded, as if that is something Alex could forget. (Ignore, yes, but not forget.) "We have to make sure the flat is secure."

Alex sighed, rolled his eyes, and flopped to the side. Chin resting on Yassen's shoulder as he types away at an industrial keyboard, wired up to the cellphone. The binary code zips by, converting into something easily readable.

He stares astutely at the screen, all too aware of the soldier's eyes on him (or more accurately, Yassen.) Their glares could burn a hole right through the dense fog outside. He is aware that, while his relationship with Yassen has become not-quite common knowledge, his old unit might not exactly approve.

Alex supposed this was the closest he would get to introducing his boyfriend to the family. Except instead of one threatening dad, he gets four gun-wielding ones.

A name begins to unscramble from the jumbled letters, like swirling alphabet soup. Cypress.

Alex recognizes the organization, Cypress, as a small but high-end group of contract killers. Four assassins ran the group - Alex had met one, a paranoid bomber that had nearly blown him and a city block sky high. There was also a master marksman, a poison specialist, and a woman exceedingly proficient in close up kills.

The four contract killers often took high profile, high paying hits - and when he looks at the price on his and Yassen's heads… separate would be an eye-popping number. Together? Their bounty could run a small country.

The marksman, Alex notes glancing at a grainy surveillance picture from the MI6 file he had pulled up, now lays dead in the abandoned buildings across the streets.

He relays his findings to K unit across from them, also speaking into the radio linked to MI6 headquarters.

"There is no way Cypress doesn't retaliate now that you've killed one of their own," Mrs. Jones' voice crackles through the radio.

"They cannot afford to seem weak," Yassen agrees, albeit reluctantly. He and Mrs. Jones do not often see eye to eye.

"And if they know where you live now-" Eagle begins.

Snake nods and chimes in, "It is only a matter of time before they strike again."

"We will have to get Cub somewhere safe," Wolf concludes, turning to Snake. His eyes flick to Yassen when he speaks.

"Alex and I have plenty of safe houses for exactly this kind of scenario-"

"Not a chance," Fox interrupted, and Alex has to consciously keep his jaw from dropping. "Cub is not leaving our sights until Cypress has been delt with."

The raising of a slender eyebrow is the only outward sign of annoyance Yassen shows. "I can keep Alex safe just fine."

Alex wanted to intercede that he could keep himself safe just fine - and hasn't he just proved that? But K unit is not in the mood to let him get a word in edgewise.

"It is our job to look after him," Wolf snapped.

Yassen is holding back from rolling his eyes, Alex can tell. Alex does his best to sink into the couch. "And you have done a fantastic job so far, haven't you?"

Surrounded by shards of glass and mirror backing, the pointed comment must hit home. Wolf is halfway out of his seat, held back only by Snake's calming hand, and Alex noticed the twitch of Yassen's hand to the firearm tucked in his waistband.

Alex is not really sure what the outcome of a Yassen vs. K Unit brawl would be, and he does not want to find out.

Alex opens his mouth to interject - to mention that Cypress had failed when they had caught him and Yassen off guard. Now that they knew, they could be ready for them. This is what he and Yassen were trained for.

He did not even get a word out.

Between K unit's mother henning, and adamant distrust of Yassen, and Mrs. Jones terse orders (and Agent Simmons exclaiming about the .22 Caliber in their bathroom cabinet) it was quickly decided that he and Yassen would be safer in protective custody.

K Unit enthusiastically agreed to be Alex's protection detail, and less enthusiastically accepted that protecting Yassen came with the deal. Yassen leaned back, stretching his arms out with an air of casualness. But when one arm settles over Alex's shoulder, he can feel the outline of taut muscles.

Alex exchanged a glance with Yassen, who looks just as exasperated with this turn of events as Alex feels. He wonders if the two of them will ever get to live some semblance of a normal life, even for a bit. Not a day into their little holiday and some high-end sniper was shattering their unfortunately-not-bulletproof windows.

Despite his and Yassen's insistence that they are fine and they could handle themselves, K Unit refused to leave them unprotected. Alex supposed that the pair of them, barefoot, bedraggled, and wearing flannel pyjamas, did not help in convincing people of their competence.

Perhaps it would not be the worst thing, to go on an MI6 sponsored vacation. In the meantime, they can have the security measures in the flat (and their other houses) updated.

Eventually, they accepted just to get everyone to shut up.

AN: It has been a while, hasn't it? Hopefully you enjoyed this chapter - I'll be uploading a few more today! I really look forward to hearing your thoughts.

And as you can see, I do take prompts into consideration. They actually help me write a lot faster - so if there is anything you want to see (in this story, one of my others, or even as a new story) feel free to leave it in a review, or PM me!