Chapter 1: San Francisco

"Hey, Rider!"

Alex shoved his notebook into his backpack before glancing up at his classmate.

Ten months earlier, he probably would've flinched away at the loud call. Now though, people yelling his name were almost never possible antagonists seeking revenge. At least, not here. The City College had ignored his unusual quirks and strange background and had set him on the fast track to finding a place in the world of engineering. Most of his classmates had more or less accepted – if not embraced – his presence.

Unfortunately, the growth spurt hadn't kicked in yet and he was still stuck looking like a baby-faced angel.

"We're going to Freddie's to study," Spencer cocked a hip against the desk, eyeing Alex, "You down?"

Alex shoved his calculator into the smaller pouch and zipped it shut. "Got work tonight." While most of his classmates assumed he lived with his elderly grandparents, Alex really did have bills to pay. The part-time job he had taken up at a corner hardware store was just barely enough to cover his groceries – not that Byrne would let him starve, but he had encouraged some sort of self-sufficiency. And while Mr. Kidman understood his student schedule, he had made it clear in no uncertain terms that taking time off work to study was unacceptable. "This weekend?"

Spencer bobbed his head, as if that had been the expected answer. "We'll be at mine. Shandy needs to review calc, so we'll save that for then, yeah?"

"Cool, text me the details." While Professor Nelson had promised the integration tables would be included on the midterm – one less thing to try to straight up memorize – Alex was not looking forward to evaluating pages and pages of them on the exam. Helping Shandy and Spencer study would hopefully help him figure out some short cuts. Or at least make it make more sense. Maybe.

He shouldered his backpack on and followed his classmates out of the lecture hall. What had started out as over fifty had already trickled down to thirty in the past year – and no doubt they would lose more before the end of mid-terms. That was just the way it was. Alex was determined to not become part of that statistic.

He slipped into the back of Mr. Kidman's shop with only a few minutes to spare and shucked his backpack and jacket off. While front-facing retail was the last position he wanted to hold, Mr. Kidman had needed a unique perspective on his new online business and had been looking for someone young to take up the position. Alex had just been in the right place at the right time.

Fate, really.

Alex tapped the password into the computer – an ancient beast that really needed to be put out of its misery – and waited for it to start up. Windows 98 was a less than stellar operating system – support had been non-existent for at least the past four years – and Alex had no doubt that many of his classmates would be horrified that there was still a functioning machine lying around. But it did exactly what Mr. Kidman wanted it to and Alex hadn't yet been able to persuade him that newer technology really did work better.

For a man trying to move forward with technology, he was still rather stuck in the past.

"Kitty said the pinger on that kept going off," Mr. Kidman grumbled as he stumped his way into the backroom, leaning heavily on his cane. "Kept interrupting her nap."

Alex barely kept himself from rolling his eyes and just nodded dutifully. Kitty was Mr. Kidman's five-year-old niece who looked for every excuse to not take her nap. "I can show you how to check it, so it'll stop doing that." Really, it was because a customer was sending in questions – and the shop inevitably got dinged by slow response times. Alex only worked four evenings a week and Sundays, after all.

Mr. Kidman huffed. "That's what I pay you for."

And while he had no desire to work himself out of a job, he highly doubted that he would ever get Mr. Kidman to change his ways. "I'll see what I can do to limit the notifications." He wasn't about to turn off the sound completely – he had tried that once before and had gotten a panicked call from Mr. Kidman in the middle of one of his classes. The professor had been less than amused.

Alex settled into the chair, catching up on the latest requests and orders. He had no doubt that there was a better way, to make it more automatic, but he had limited experience and knowledge. It wasn't like he knew how to code or make front-facing designs that were easy to navigate – there was a reason he was going for engineering and not computer science, after all.

And besides, it was good job security.

October in San Francisco led to swift changes in temperatures. One day it could be warm and sunny, the next cold and blustery. It was his second fall in the city and he found that he enjoyed it more than he ever had in London. And here, he was on his own. Responsible for his own life and nothing more.

There was a certain amount of freedom that it led to.

Inevitably, the temperatures were going to dip and the cold, rainy, foggy days were going to start up again – much more like London weather. For now though, Alex took advantage of the temperate weather and walked as much as possible. He wasn't a fan of the BART system, but used it when he had to. Not everything was within walking distance, after all.

The fresh breeze did a lot for him though–

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

Alex pulled it out and flipped it open, scanning through the text.

Uptick in activity. No new rumors. Stay safe – B.

Joe Byrne, head of the CIA.

An unexpected ally in his new life.

After leaving London and the mess that MI6 made of his life, it had only taken a few short weeks of living with the Pleasures before Alex realized that simple family living wasn't in the books for him anymore. Not until he got himself figured out better. Byrne had, surprisingly, understood and done everything in his power to help Alex make a new life for himself.

That new life ended up being in San Francisco, a place where he could almost blend into anonymity. Living in the heart of the city – a tiny flat that Byrne paid for, for services rendered – and attending the City College, where no one really glanced twice in his direction, was the best he could have hoped for. He hadn't even changed his name, though Byrne had suggested once or twice that it might improve his chances of being undisturbed.

Alex knew better though. People were going to target him, no matter his identity. In the past year, there had only been four kidnapping attempts. He considered it a success that he had made it through unscathed. After nearly four months of quiet, Alex wasn't surprised that ex-SCORPIA activity was increasing.

Inevitably, someone would target him again.

Maybe one day he would be able to walk outside without keeping both eyes wide open, but until then, he was determined to not let it rule his life.

His therapist had done a good job on that account, that was for sure.

Alex shoved the phone back in his pocket and continued his trek toward Spencer's flat. He had more pressing concerns than possible terrorists tracking him down for revenge – he needed to figure out how he was going to possibly pass the upcoming physics mid-term.

"Děkuju za pomoc." Thanks for your help. Mrs. Cilka took the last of the quiz papers from Alex, before nodding toward the door. "Pokud si nepospíšíte, zmeškáte vlak."

It took Alex a moment to parse through the unfamiliar phrasing, but he got the gist of it. She was worried he would miss the train.

"Jsou… tam dva vlak." Not that he wanted to wait around at the station for the second train. That would be an extra hour with nothing to do but second guess the moves of everyone around him.

She smiled at him. "Vlaky," she said, giving him the correct plural.

"Vlaky," Alex repeated. As much as he enjoyed his engineering classes – maths, physics, and software engineering made sense – there were times that falling back on the familiarity of struggling in a foreign language made him feel more at home. It reminded him of the happier parts of his childhood – exploring new countries, learning new expressions, trying new food. And while one could probably debate the utility of Czech, it was different from his standard French, Spanish, German. And it had the added benefit of not being yet another language looked on fondly by the intelligence services.

Not that the CIA was likely to come recruiting him – not since Byrne had all but put a ban on anyone even looking in his direction. Alex's existence was one of the worst kept international intelligence secrets, after all.

"Jdi domů, Alexi." She made a shooing motion in his direction.

Alex grinned, shrugged his backpack on, and sent her a wave on his way out the door.

The class wasn't with the City College, so it was both later in the evening than he was usually out and further away from his flat. There was a nearby BART station, which would take him within a couple of blocks of his flat, and he had scoped it out at the beginning of the semester when there was still daylight in the evening. He knew better than to wander some of the streets in the dark.

He glanced at his watch, then hurried down the steps and onto the sidewalk. The next train left in ten minutes, which was more than enough time to make it to the station.

Although it was after dark, there was no mistaking the fact that the city was still bustling with life. 9:00 pm at night wasn't the end of the day, after all. There would be several more trains coming and going, but he still liked to be back at his apartment before 10:00 pm. Then he could lock things up and no potentially missing notification would be sent to Byrne.

After all, just because he was living his own life, didn't mean he was about to be foolish with security. He could be out late, all he wanted. It was just safer if Byrne knew in advance.

That was pretty much the extent of their relationship these days. Occasional check-ins to verify that no unwanted presence had tried to kidnap him – whether terrorist or rogue-CIA (which had happened once).

Alex skirted through lit walk signals, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. There was a spare quarter in one pocket, perfect for flipping and fidgeting with. Despite his therapist's repeated efforts to help him reduce some of the unnecessary vigilance, Alex couldn't help but scan his environment for anything that felt out of place. Movement. Sound. Atmosphere.

Difficult to detect in a city.

He wasn't going to be caught off guard though.

There was a soft scuff on the ground behind him, but Alex didn't turn around. He fought down the urge to immediately investigate and instead, kept walking in the direction of the BART station. No one had followed him out of the building. No one had been on the sidewalk directly behind him. No one had been in his peripherals at any of the other street crossings.

But the BART station was the most common place for anyone to be walking at this time of night.

Just because someone dared to walk the sidewalk behind him, didn't mean there was something nefarious afoot.

Alex took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and followed the most well-lit path he could find. He hunched his shoulders against the brisk breeze and tucked his chin down into the collar of his jacket.

Being vigilant and giving into paranoia were two different things.

Turning around would only let him categorize it as threat or non-threat – regardless of whether he had any concrete evidence to base that on.

Listening would suffice.

The occasional scrapes weren't getting any closer nor further away.

A chill rolled up his spine.

Someone with an evenly matched pace to his – either they were following him, or just didn't want to overtake him.

The walk signal at the crossing in front of him switched to the count down and Alex picked up his pace ever so slightly.

The person behind him did as well.

Alex clenched the quarter in his fist. His cellphone was in his jeans pocket. It hadn't buzzed all day – and Byrne always seemed to know when something was going to happen. When someone might be coming after him. Sure, there had been false alarms, but nothing had ever happened without Byrne knowing about it.

Thirty yards.

Alex skipped a couple of steps as he headed down the stairs into the station. He swiped his pass and slid through the gates as quickly as possible.

It was only a few short paces to the edge of the tracks and he walked down the tracks until he could safely put his back to the wall.

He glanced up the tracks, catching sight of the only other person coming down the stairs and then heading in the opposite direction.

Just another random person.

Alex unclenched his fist and let the quarter fall loose in his pocket.

There was no need to panic.

Not that he had been panicking.

Just… on guard.

Alex leaned his head back against the wall and watched the station clock tick over.

Maybe he wasn't quite as at ease in the city as he liked to pretend.

Alex resisted the urge to drum his heels on the floor. He didn't like it when he got left waiting – especially not here. Byrne had found a high clearance counseling center – ex-CIA, ex-black ops, ex-you-name-it clandestine activity – and no one in charge had even blinked twice in Alex's direction. A trial period had been a requirement of his new life in the city – Byrne insisting that therapy really was the best way for Alex to get his life back on track.

Needless to say, Alex had been skeptical.

Therapy had never been a good fit. But then, he had always had a veneer of secrecy that he had had to deal with. No one wanted the news of a teenage spy abused by MI6 to spread very far, after all. But Byrne had come through. Had found an entire facility that agreed to sign a boatload of confidentiality papers, and then a therapist that was willing to out wait Alex's stubborn streak.

After more than a year, Alex didn't even bother trying to pretend anymore. Theo saw right through him.

Theo also knew that Alex hated being left in the lobby to wait.

While none of the workers looked twice in Alex's direction, the other frequent attendees certainly didn't bother with that courtesy. Every other individual Alex had ever seen in the waiting room was at least twice his age – many with visible scars and injuries that screamed military associations. Which made sense for them, but not for him.

So, they stared.

"Alex?" One of the secretaries stepped out from behind the desk, waving him toward one of the doors. "He's ready for you. Sorry about the delay."

Alex just shoved his hands into his pockets and dodged the curious stares of the only other woman in the lobby.

They had seen him in the building frequently enough that the secretary just buzzed him through the doors and let him find Theo's office on his own.

Third door on the right.

Alex knocked briefly, hesitate the barest second, before letting himself in.

The room smelled like fresh orange cleanser – Theo's favorite.

"Sorry about that, but I figured you'd rather I get the place cleaned up first." Theo didn't even look up from his desk, jotting down notes – no doubt from his last session.

Alex let the door shut behind himself, then took his usual circuitous route around the room. Early on, Theo had established that certain levels of paranoia could be indulged, but staying on high alert in an area where he was supposed to be safe was the opposite of useful.

So, as long as Alex could assure himself that Theo was the one and only person in the room – and there were no stealthily placed listening devices – Alex could safely bare his soul.

The shelves on the walls were filled with Theo's customary trinkets – souvenirs from his admittedly short travels. Alex had never quite gotten the full story out of him, but it was clear that he was ex-military and had served in some rather… exotic places. Classified places. Every few weeks or so, there would be a new addition on the shelf – and every now and then, Theo would let slip that a previous friend, previous colleague, would send him mementos. He joked that they were always trying to entice him to come back to their base.

There was a new one this week. A glass sculpture that looked almost back-lit with a blue glow on the shelf. Not exactly fancy and not exactly something pretty per se, but exactly along the lines of what Theo collected.

Random odds and ends that others might classify as trash.

Alex let his fingers trail close to the shelf, looking for anything else that was out of place.

The glass was cool under his fingertips and a quick check confirmed that there were no electronics hiding in its shadow.

After a few more moments, it became clear that everything was as it should be in the room.

"How was your week?" Theo asked, finally setting down his tablet with notes – the only electronic device permitted in the room – and moving toward the pair of chairs set in the corner. "I know you had mid-terms."

Alex shrugged, then let himself settle into the free chair. "Calc wasn't bad." He had breezed through that test. "But Dr. Richardson likes to throw a lot of trick questions into her multiple choice for the physics exams." He couldn't suppress the huff at that. He had had Dr. Richardson for two physics classes now, and he wasn't sure why he expected her to change things up. Short answer was, by far, better than multiple choice in her classes.

Theo's lips curled into a smile. "You ranted about her over the summer. Did having a study group seem to help this time?"

A study group of three was better than none, he supposed. It had been one of his goals for the semester – branch out with his classmates more. Limit the isolation. Whatever career he ended up pursuing would more than likely require interaction with other human beings – and Theo's philosophy was that he needed to learn appropriate coping strategies sooner rather than later.

Alex wasn't entirely sure he agreed at times, but even he could see the benefit of studying with others. "Some of Spencer's practice questions showed up on the short answer." And really, it had been a blessing to have something familiar and easy to answer. The rest had been… much more difficult.

"I'm sure that was a relief to see."

"Yeah…"

"What's next on your plate, then?"

Alex blew out a long breath and slouched in the chair. "Need to start thinking about final projects. Dr. Richardson is going to start assigning groups next week." And really, group projects were a creation from the utter pits of hell. It just made it worse when they didn't get the dignity to choose their own groups. Alex had no doubt that he would get at least one slacker and one person who wanted to have nothing to do with him. "I have a couple of ideas, but…"

"It's going to depend on whether you get put with jerk-face or not."

Alex grimaced. To say that all his classmates welcomed him with open arms was a vast overstatement. Certain classmates accepted him. Others… liked to take out their frustration on the seemingly weakest link in the classroom with scathing comments and implied derisions on his character.

Jerk-face, as Theo had dubbed his one classmate, had set out from day one to discredit Alex in the classroom. It had never quite gotten physical, but they had come close once or twice. Alex thought college would leave the pettiness of grade school behind, but apparently some people never grew up.

"Anything else new with your classes?"

Alex shook his head.

There was a long silence and Alex knew what was coming next. Because they always started with the pleasantries, but inevitably Theo was there to get down to the nitty-gritty.

"Alright then," Theo leaned back in his chair, clearly settling in for the long haul. "A few check-in questions, you know the drill. Have you had any panic attacks within the past week?"

"No."

"Have you had any nightmares in the past week?"

"Two."

"Have you received any strange or unsettling news within the past week?"

"No."

"Have you felt yourself being watched within the past week?"

"N—" Alex hesitated. That night, leaving class. He hadn't been able to shake the feeling, even after he had found the person following him in the station.

They had been a student.

They had to be.

But anyone could masquerade as a student. All it took was a backpack.

Nothing had happened since.

It was all a coincidence.

"Alex?"

Alex blinked rapidly, before nodding. "Leaving class, the other night." It had felt so out of the ordinary – so in contrast to what he usually experienced.

Theo hummed, but nodded as if he hadn't expected anything else. "Have you felt unsafe in your apartment within the past week?"

"No."

"Have you heard from Mr. Byrne recently?"

Alex nodded. "On Sunday. Nothing was up though."

Theo slanted a glance in his direction. "Was that before or after you felt like you were being watched?"

He let his shoulders droop. "Before."

"And the nightmares?"

"After."

Theo set the tablet to the side, focusing his full attention on Alex. "Then let's start at Sunday."

A/N: Welcome to the crazy world of my brain. This little crossover (okay, not so little) has been kicking around in there for a little over a year and is about 95% written already. Even if you're not familiar with one of the fandoms, I encourage you to give this a shot. I'll include a brief summary of both fandoms, just in case. I'm thrilled to have something to write and post again, so I sincerely hope you join me on this ride.

Alex Rider - He is a British teenager recently moved to the US. He spent roughly two years forced into working as a teenage spy for MI6, until the death of his guardian, Jack. He has a few international terrorist organizations out for his head, because he switched sides for a couple of months, then brought them down. He was very good at what he did, but has no desire to go back to spying.

Stargate - Aliens are real, but only a few select military groups on earth know. Some aliens are friendly, some are... not. Transportation between planets and galaxies is possible through a stargate, which creates a stable wormhole between two locations. Intra- and inter-galactic travel is possible, but inter-galactic travel is usually accomplished via spaceships, because of power requirements. Although the Stargate program is primarily run by the US Air Force, the International Oversight Advisory (IOA) oversees and likes to stick their fingers in things, not always for the better.