Author's note: This is a one-shot I wrote to explore the relationship between Alec and James. I am intending to post a longer story featuring the two of them later, and this is partly to explore their different backgrounds first.

While hiding amongst some thorns, Alec feels as if he has done it before, but when?

Very big thanks goes to Earendil Eldar for beta work.

Disclaimer: I do not own James Bond, Alec Trevelyan or any other James Bond related item or person. I have only borrowed the characters and will return them. Not even making any serious attempt at kidnapping Alec, and as I have gotten some special glue form Q, he shall appear utterly unharmed.

Hiding Amongst the Thorns

"Ow!" James grumbled. "Bloody thorns." He cursed as another thorn snagged at his hair.

"A bit bothersome yes." Alec agreed beside him. One thorn scratched up the length of his forearm. It was annoying. They were crawling through a stand of thorn bushes, crawling though, on their bellies to try and avoid detection. Keeping low and keeping their voices to a whisper.

"Worse than that." James cursed again as the fabric of his clothes ripped. Hearing a sound they both crouched down and remained completely still.

James sucking at one scratch, and Alec touched his fingertips to a scratch on his cheek. It was just their luck that the only possible way of escape went through a stand of thorn bushes.

Oddly enough Alec thought that it was familiar, wriggling his way through thorn bushes, but he could not recall having done it before, and yet it was very familiar.

Alec did not know what was going on. He had no idea of what was happening. He knew he had been so frightened that he had just run outside. His father had done something, and then his mother had fallen, and he had been so scared he had just run away from there.

Now he was scared because he could not find his mother again. He had looked everywhere, but he could not find her, and now there were a lot of other men there, and he was really scared.

His mother had told him before that he had to be a big boy, a good boy, and not cry. He tried to, but he knew something was wrong, and it made him even more scared.

So he had taken to flight, and hid in a stand in some thorn bushes. He hoped that those strange men would not search amongst the thorns. They were so big that he did not think they could. As small as he was it was very hard for him to wriggle in. Anything bigger than him should not be able to.

If he had not sneezed they might not have found him.

Now there was a man kneeling outside the bush and beaconing to him to come out.

Alec cowered back, trying to inch backwards, but the thorns dug into his small thighs as he did that.

The man tried to coax him out with a bar of chocolate. That was tempting, because he was so hungry that his stomach hurt, but he was more scared than hungry. He was also very thirsty, so when the chocolate was replaced by a tin cup of water he actually inched closer to the man.

Then a pair of hands reached in and grabbed him. Alec thought against the man, Kicking and biting and pounding with his small fists.

Yet he was too tired and hungry to be able to fight much, and when he realised the man did not try to harm him, but was actually careful he stopped fighting.

Then man held him and gave him the tin mug, and Alec greedily gulped down the few mouthfuls of water. Even when the mug was empty he held on to it, he wanted more water. He desperately wanted more water.

The man was talking with him, and he sounded nice enough, but Alec did not really understand what he was saying.

The man tried to make a brief examination of the child, to see if he was hurt. He needed to wait a moment before giving him more water, less he became sick. Yet he allowed him to hold on to the mug, a silent reassurance that he would get more water he hoped.

He also had to find some clothes for him. The child wore a pair of trousers with big tears in them, but no shoes, and no sweater. His upper body and bare feet was covered in bloody scratches from the thorns, and some thorns had scratched him through the trousers. There were several red streaks in the face with the big frightened eyes.

Since the child was so young, and did not seem to understand him they had to be extra careful not to frighten him.


The wounds from the thorns needed tending, and he would be the one to do it, handing the child over to someone else would just frighten him more, and that would be a bad thing. So he took the child with him to wash him, it was a very difficult procedure, because he kept trying to reach the water to drink it. As well as trying to twist away from the stinging pain in the scratches. Eventually thought he was able to clean all the small wounds.

He found a note in his pocket, a note with a hastily scribbled name on it.

"Alec?" He asked the boy. "Is that your name, Alec?" The boy looked up at the sound of the name, so he supposed that this child was named Alec Trevelyan. He wrote the name on an official name tag and hung it around his neck. Should he somehow lose track of the child the others would know who he was.

The smallest shirt he could find for the child was too big and he rolled up the sleeves. Then he deemed it safe to give him a few more drops of water in the tin mug. The child still held on to that. Well it was no wonder. He took a few photos of the child, he would be watched for some time, but then he would most likely be sent to an orphanage, and then it would help to have some photos of him.

That way they could find somewhere to send him even as they made sure he carried no containment, and that the lack of food and water had done no damage. Then he would be taken better care off. He thought that it was a rather sweet child, and he hoped that it would later get adopted by some loving parents, and that he would have a good life ahead of him. Much better than how the first years had been, and that he would never again suffer horrors as the ones he had just lived through.

There was something oddly familiar of the situation. Alec decided as they watched someone on the other side of the thorns. Someone who did not think that anyone would be stupid enough to hide amongst the thorns.

Which was what made it such a good hiding spot.

Later as he and James both laughed, and cursed over the sting of disinfectant in the scratches he could not help but thinking that there had been something familiar about the situation. Yet he could not recall ever having done something like it before.

He shrugged it off by deciding that he had most likely wound up in some thorn bush while at the orphanage. They had played hide and seek at times, maybe he had hid in a thorn bush, and just did not remember it, that was the most likely explanation he decided.

It did not really matter either, as he could not imagine that it would be important. What would be important was getting cleaned off in time for the traditional pint of ale, and then James would opt for his vodka martini, and they would both find a pair of warm and lovely arms in which to spend the night.

That was what was important to Alec right now.

The End

This was the ninth one shot. This time I will try the new feature fro review response, both for this one, and the last one. That said, I want to thank everyone who have read those stories.

/Elenhin