A/N: Merry Whatever Holiday You're Celebrating Right Now!

The list of things Jack expected to see in the kitchen at five in the morning was very short.

The Prime Minister helping Ian apply make-up was decidedly not on that list.

The Prime Minister held up a mirror as Ian applied foundation to his face, to cover up a hand-shaped bruise on his cheek.

Jack held back a gasp. She hadn't hit him that hard last night!

"That may be, Ian, but the fact that Blunt abandoned one of his best operatives - especially one who is a special friend of the Crown -"

"Jonathan, please don't tell me you woke up Will when you found out I got back."

"Do you see a Royal convoy outside?"

"I don't need you going a Crusade, Jonathan, the country doesn't need that. As long as Alex is left out of it, I don't care what you do."

"So you wouldn't mind if I gave you Blunt's job?"

Jack couldn't hold her gasp back at that.

Both men turned towards the source of the noise, and Jack flushed. She knew what she looked like - hair mussed, tank top and pyjamas rumpled - and did she mention the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom was standing in the kitchen?!

The Prime Minister smiled, unperturbed at her eavesdropping. "Good morning, Miss Starbright."

Jack let out a strangled squeak.

"Please don't terrorise my housekeeper, Mr. Prime Minister," Ian said evenly.

Jack's attention immediately shifted to safer ground. "Ian - your face - did I -"

"Vitamin K deficiency," Ian replied, "I bruise very easily right now."

"That's not the only deficiency, as I recall," the Prime Minister retorted sharply.

Ian raised an eyebrow. "How did you get my medical report?"

The Prime Minister simply smiled.

The kettle whistled softly, and Jack dashed over to it, grateful for something to do. As she poured out three cups, the Prime Minister chuckled. "It's a bit like being back in school, isn't it?"

"I'm not half your size, Sir, if that's what you mean," Ian snarked.

"Are you ever going to drop the formalities, Ian?"

"Unlikely, Sir."

The Prime Minister sighed as he accepted the cup of tea with his free hand. "Thank you, Miss Starbright. I don't suppose you could convince your employer to drop the titles?"

Jack's eyes widened, remembering the earlier conversation she'd overheard. "Um..."

"What did I just say about terrorising my housekeeper?"

The Prime Minister grinned. "There's the Ian Rider I remember. I'm glad, after everything..."

Ian tilted his head, checking in the mirror to make sure the bruise was completely covered. "It'll take more than Scorpia to keep me down. You should be going, Sir, I'm sure you've a busy day ahead."

The Prime Minister sighed, setting down the mirror and the teacup. "So busy, I can't even stop by and welcome a friend home, it seems."

Ian's expression flickered, before settling into something completely neutral. "The Prime Minister of the UK can't afford to be seen having much of a friendship with a spy, Sir. It'll set a tone for your term that will only hurt you."

The Prime Minister shook his head. "So you've told me, many times. We'll agree to disagree, shall we?"

Ian hobbled backwards to allow the Prime Minister to leave, and Jack nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden appearance of the Prime Minister's bodyguards.

The leader of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland turned and gripped Ian's shoulders, his expression serious and intent. "Ian, I know you live by the 'allies and assets' mentality of many operatives, but I want you know - listen to me, Ian - you have a helping hand from me, whenever you need it."

Ian's eyes widened slightly, and he swallowed. He nodded and replied softly, "... Thank you, Jonathan."

The older man gave a small smile and clapped Ian's shoulders once. "Good man."

With a nod to his bodyguards, the Prime Minister turned and left.

Jack stared at Ian, watching as he remained straight and tense, relaxing slightly at a muffled sound of surprise from outside, and then relaxing completely as a car drove away. The spy sighed and hobbled back to the counter and picked up his teacup, his hand trembling once. He was wearing a new shirt, diamond cufflinks glinting at his wrists, and crisp black slacks. If it weren't for the plaster peeking out from under his trouser leg, Ian would look like he was on his way to work any other day.

Except for the part where it was five in the morning, and Ian was wearing make-up. Jack didn't let herself think about how well it was done, and how she wouldn't have noticed it at all if she hadn't seen Ian put it on. There was something achingly lonely about the idea of Ian hiding bruises under make-up and neither she nor Alex noticing.

"Ian... Is everything... How long have you been awake?"

Ian blinked, setting down his cup and looking at her with a guarded expression. Had he always looked at her that way?

"Not that long, I'd say since about three, maybe half-past three?"

Jack looked at him in consternation. "Ian, you went to bed at eleven last night!"

Ian's eyebrows rose mildly. "So I did. Well, it all worked out, imagine if I'd opened the door to the Prime Minister in my pyjamas."

Jack flushed and reached out to swat Ian's arm as she'd done so often before when he teased her. Then, his earlier comment caught up to her, and she gasped. "Sorry! Did I -"

"Don't worry about it," Ian replied with a dismissive wave. "Alex doesn't have school today, does he?"

Jack shook her head. "No, Brooklands gave the students the week off."

"Mmm... I wanted to catch him before I left."

"What time are you leaving for... the Bank?"

"Around 8:30 should do it. Traffic can be a right nightmare getting to Royal and General."

Jack glanced at the clock. It was barely half past five, and Ian was fully dressed. "Well, since we're both up, I might as well make breakfast."

"Jack, you don't need to -"

"Ian Rider, you hired me as your housekeeper, now sit down and let me housekeep!"

Ian's lips twitched into a smile, and he sat down at the island. "I'm surprised you're still here," he admitted at length.

Jack froze as she pulled eggs from the fridge, and then her shoulders slumped. "You found the letter, didn't you?"

"If you're going to type up your letter of resignation and don't want anyone to know, it's best you don't write it on the home computer."

"I - I'm sorry -"

"Don't be," Ian said calmly, "You're a bright young woman, you've got your whole future ahead of you. I appreciate you staying on as long as you have."

Jack huffed a laugh and turned the stove on. Ian nursed his tea as she worked, and eventually asked, "Do you still plan on leaving?"

Jack placed a saucepan on the stove cracked open an egg on the side. She dug out a spatula and started stirring. The egg started hissing and crackling before she replied, "My parents... They're getting on in years. Dad suffered from heatstroke recently. I... I should go back soon. I was planning on talking to Alex and leaving at the end of the summer. He doesn't need me as much anymore, especially now that you're back."

Ian nodded. "Of course."

Jack stirred the egg and glanced back at Ian suspiciously. "You are planning on staying, right?"

Ian's lips quirked. "I'll be off active duty for several weeks while my leg heals, and then on desk duty for a couple months after that. I'll be around."

Jack tilted the saucepan and scraped the egg off onto another plate. She cracked two more eggs on the side. "But you're not leaving MI6."

"No."

Jack stared at the eggs, her knuckles turning white around the handle of the saucepan. Why? Why would he stay with those monsters after what they put Alex through?

"I'm one of those monsters, Jack."

Jack froze, realising she'd spoken aloud. She looked back to see Ian watching her, his elbow on the counter, his chin propped up on his fist. His expression was as calm and unreadable as ever.

"I work for MI6 because I love my country very much, and I am very good at what I do. Director Blunt crossed the line when it came to Alex - he bloody well trampled over it, in fact. But Alan Blunt is not the whole of MI6. There are people there who rely on my skills, assets I've developed that MI6 needs. There are missions ongoing that need my expertise, and I will give it as long as I am able. The world is dirty, dangerous place, and I took an oath fourteen years ago to stand between that tide of darkness and the people of the United Kingdom, so that they could sleep easy at night. I intend to keep my oath - for Queen and Country, Jack."

Jack scraped off the eggs onto the plate, her lips pressed in a thin line. "Would you have done it? If you were in Blunt's position? Would you have used a fourteen-year-old the way he did?"

"No."

Jack placed the plate of scrambled eggs and a fork in front of Ian with a sigh. "I don't understand you, Ian. I don't think I ever will."

Ian quirked a smile.

"But," Jack said as she turned back to the stove, "At least if you're here, Alex doesn't have to go live with Cousin Martin in Glossop."

Ian stabbed his fork into the plate so hard it cracked. "Alex will never go to that wife-beating drunkard, as long as I have any say."

Jack reared back, stunned, and Ian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "John and I don't come from good stock," he explained, forcing the words out quickly, as if they'd affect him less that way, "Neither did Helen; that's why she and John got on so well - both of them rising above their families. Her parents died in prison; mine and John's died before they could get there. All of our cousins, on either side, aren't fit to take care of a rock, let alone a child."

"I - I'm sorry."

Ian shook his head. "You didn't know. How did you find out about him, anyway?"

"I did some searching after you... disappeared," Jack admitted, "I was still thinking of leaving, and I wanted to know who'd take care of Alex. You never talked about your family..."

"The only family I cared to talk about was dead," Ian replied distantly, "John was - my world. And I was his, at least until he went off to university and I became just another annoying younger brother. John and Helen were beautiful together..."

Fifteen years, and it still felt like Jones told him about their deaths a few hours ago. Time hadn't healed this wound at all; it was as raw and bleeding as it had been the day he found out about his brother and sister-in-law's deaths. He still remembered his own screams and grief, echoing in the back of his mind.

He came out of his reverie to the sound of feet rapidly thudding down the stairs, and stood up in time for Alex to burst into the kitchen.

"Ian!"

Alex's eyes lit up upon seeing his Uncle, and he couldn't stop the grin from breaking out across his face. Ian grinned back, shifting his arms to allow for the hug Alex promptly tackled him with.

"I'm here, Alex," he murmured, carding his fingers through Alex's hair, "I'm still here."

"I wasn't - I thought it was a dream," Alex admitted into Ian's shoulder.

Ian tightened his grip and held his nephew close.

"What are you doing up so early?" Ian asked, when they finally broke apart.

"I smelled the eggs - Jack's normally never up this early."

Jack made a face at the teen and gestured towards Ian. "It's his fault, he was up long before I was."

Alex looked at his Uncle in consternation. "You're not leaving now, are you?"

Ian shook his head with a smile. "No, I'm not heading out until half-past-eight at the earliest. I had an early-morning visitor, is all."

Alex's brow furrowed. "Who would come visit this early in the morning?"

"Someone who finds out I've returned to the country at three in the morning and has the patience of a four-year-old."

Jack sputtered. "Ian! You can't talk about the Prime Minister that way!"

Ian's eyebrow rose and Alex's jaw dropped. "Wait - the Prime Minister - Jonathan Cross - was here? At three in the morning?!"

"Four in the morning, actually," Ian corrected calmly, his eyes glittering with mischief.

"You're having me on, aren't you?!" Alex demanded.

"Jack as my witness, I'm not."

Alex looked between his exasperated housekeeper and smirking Uncle. He swatted Ian's arm. "Ian!"

Ian laughed, his voice mellow and clear. It was a sound Alex never thought he'd hear again. It felt all new and blissfully familiar at the same time. Ian was here. His hair was shorn shorter than he'd worn it before, and he looked thinner, but he was here. At home.

Alex grinned and swiped some scrambled eggs off Ian's plate as Jack turned back to the stove. Everything was finally as it should be.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!