Disclaimer - I own neither Alex Rider, nor do I own Yuri on Ice. I'm just using the characters for some fun.

This fic born from my weird brain. Please enjoy.

Karina Plisetsky was young when her world crumbled. Only twenty one and a rising star in Russia's music industry, it was a young career but promising. Her fanbase was small - but dedicated – and while she hadn't hit the top twenty, her singles where a frequent visitor to the top forty charts. She was one of those artist that started small and worked for the big leagues, and once she got there no one would knock her down.

Her fall from grace came in the form of a handsome stranger. Blond, with the lithe build of a dancer. He had this presence that seemed to incur fear and fascination in those that meet him. Well, mostly fear, the fascination was all Karina's. They were occupants of the same hotel.

He brought the first round of drinks and she was happy to indulge in his company that night. Karina would remember her thin fingers tracing a long scar that marred his neck. Other details would blur, pale blue eyes would become dark, chiseled lips would be made full, but the scar. The scar would always be remembered with astonishing clarity.

The next morning Karina awoke in a empty hotel room, with only the bruises and pain from a passionate night. Or so she thought.

It started with nausea, striking when most inconvenient, often during rehearsals. It was only a near moth later when she found herself crouched in front of a toilet did she really consider what the signs meant. A trip to the chemist in disguise allowed for a decent pregnancy test to confirm her suspicions. She managed to convincingly hide it until she showing. Then she was dropped like a hot potato.

After two months searching for a new agent and manager, her funds where dwindling. Karina was forced back to the outskirts of Moscow, and to her family's home.

"Do you want this?" Where the first words her father had asked her.

"It might be my only child." Karina replied. Complications were common on both sides of the family, Karina herself have been delivered via caesarean. "The industry won't disappear overnight, I made it before I'll make it again."

Her papa had then offered all his support.

Yuri Plisetsky was born early in the morning on March 1st, he was tiny with a shock of the blondest hair. Little fists hanging tightly to his Grandpa's large pinkie. The new-born was promptly declared adorable, two nights later that was revoked and he was renamed a terror.

"He must have your lungs," her father had said. The little horror disguised as her son only howled louder, his cries only ever seemed to quiet in the presence of his Grandpa. That didn't bother Karina – much – her time was spent working shifts at nearby stores, as Nikolai's own salary wasn't enough to cover both her and little Yuri.

That wasn't to say she didn't have contact with her son. He was always calmest in the time just after he'd awoken from his nap. Karina and little Yuri would lie on the softest rug in the little house, together, playing with his toys, all the while he babbled happily. Karina was always happy to babble back.

"You are so cute," she'd whisper, or "who's a little heartstealer?"

Other times she liked to tell him stories about his mysterious father.

"He had the bluest eyes. Don't worry yours are gorgeous green, like mine, and we both know green is much better, don't we?"

"Baba."

"Yes we do. Anyway, he was tall and very handsome – just like you – and when he walked into the room, it was like magic. He was so strong and he had this big scar across his neck. I bet he was undercover and on a mission, that's why he had the scar, he'd done missions before."

"Grapa."

"Hmm, what did you say?"

"Grapa."

"Ah! Papa!" She shouted, summoning her father to the living room.

"What's wrong?" Nikolai asked. Faced with his daughter proudly holding his tiny grandson in front of him.

"Guess what our little genius said," she replied. "Way you go sweetie, say it, say Grandpa. Grandpa."

"Grapa, baba. Baba grapa."

"See?" Karina asked, proudly adjusting Yuri against her hip. Nikolai just smiled.

"Grapa isn't a word."

"Yes it is."

The rest of the night settled down into a soft spoken argument, which was his first word, what did and didn't count. It was agreed, in the end, that he'd made his first word like noise. The moment was captured and framed.

The house found itself a comfortable routine, interrupted only the important landmarks of a growing boy. First steps, first words, birthdays, each a treasured event in the Plisetsky household. Looking back Karina could never pin point where it went wrong.

When Yuri was four, her father - in the winter months - had started taking Yuri to a little that pond that froze solid throughout the cold season. Her boy had taken to it like a duck to water, skating neat circles around all the other children. Each night he'd proudly show off all his bruises from every fall. Only the worst of storms would keep her little Yuri of the ice.

Then she met Ivan.

Karina had just finished her shift, her hands full with the weeks groceries. A particularly slippery patch of ice sent her bowling over and her shopping sprawling.

"Damn it." Karina hissed, as she set about collecting it.

"Need a hand there?" Asked a broad shouldered man. He could be considered the exact opposite of Yuri's father.

Where her scarred stranger had been lithe and blond, wrapped up in thin muscle that was wound so tight, he might have been a snake poised to strike. The man before her was at least 6ft and built with large soft muscle. Where Yuri's father created a cold fascination, the polite gentleman before exuded a friendly aura.

Two – sweet, considerate, wonderful - dates later, she was smitten.

Karina offered to introduce him to her boys. Her father greeted him at the door, sizing him up like he did every with everyman she brought home. A firm hand shake and good conversation over dinner won him over, soon were telling tales like old wives together. Their booming laughter had woken a cranky four year old.

"Mama, why do we have a bear?" Yuri asked, with the most unimpressed face he could give. He'd been doing that a lot, she hoped it was just a phase.

"Silly, that isn't a bear. That's Ivan, he's Mama's boy-friend. Do you want to meet him?" Karina asked, lifting Yuri with only a little trouble – the boy was still quite small – and holding him so that he could see. His lovely green eyes looked the stranger in his kitchen up and down.

"No."

"Yuri that isn't polite", Karina scolded him.

"It's fine Karina," Ivan replied. Holding his arms out for the little boy, Karina carefully passed him over. "Hello Yuri, my name is Ivan. Your Grandpa tells me you like skating, I do as well."

"What do you skate?"

"I play hockey for fun, maybe we could spend some time together at the rink? You usually just go to the pond don't you?"

"Grandpa always takes me skating."

"Well he's just as welcome, I'd love to take you both to the rink. If your willing Nikolai?"

"Oh, always," replied her father.

The evening ended with an even more worn out four year old, a chaste kiss for Karina, and promises of a visit to a proper ice rink as soon as Ivan was able.

The visit was arranged less than a month later, the whole family piled themselves and snacks to Nikolai ancient car, ready to meet Ivan at the rink. The team was just starting, already skating round the rink to warm up. They spotted Ivan on the side line waiting for them.

He deposited a quick kiss on Karina's cheek before addressing an amused Nikolai and unamused Yuri. The little boy look more like a snowball of clothing rather than a four year old, so his scowl only made him more adorable. Karina was getting just a tiny bit concerned about his attitude.

"Heya little man, why the long face?" Ivan asked.

"You said we where going to skate?"

"We are, the team is just doing a few drills, we'll be out there real soon." This did not appease Yuri. Ivan did not give up, from behind his back he produced a little hockey stick, just the right size for little Yuri. "Check out what I got you."

Yuri took the stick, obviously conflicted his face scrunched as he looked the whole thing over.

"Yuri, what do we say?" Karina prodded.

"Thank you."

"No problem champ. I'll be right with you after practice."

After practice turned out to be just over an hour later. During said hour, Yuri had eaten two pirozhki, explored the entire rink, tied and untied his skates, and started a very important argument on why they should have a tiger.

"Because!"

Ivan appeared again, still on his skates but having shed most of his protective gear and now holding a pair of rented skates.

"You ready champ?"

"Yes! You took forever!"

"I'm sorry about that, but when we get out on the ice I'll make it up to you."

"Why do you have those?" Yuri asked pointing at the spare pair of skates. "Grandpa can't skate anymore, he hurt his back."

"Don't worry kiddo, these are for your Mama." Ivan turned to her, "you're joining us aren't you?"

"I will, but I not very good," Karina replied.

"That's fine."

Yuri was off like a rocket on the ice, drawing circles around his mother as she struggled to find her balance. Ivan followed Karina carefully, giving her a hand to stay upright for at least one lap round the rink. After which she found her place leaning against the rink and watching Ivan's futile goal of teaching Yuri hockey. The boy just kept goofing off and skating up to Karina to show how fast he could spin.

Ivan gave up on the hockey part and instead focused on teaching him how to move backwards, Yuri was far more interested. The day ended on a good note, Yuri asleep in his Grandpa's arms, worn out the day's activities.

"Yuri doesn't really take after you," said Ivan as he held the car door open.

Karina thought about it, Yuri had always resembled her one night stand, and while his blonde hair might darken as he got older, the sharp edges of cheekbones were already prominent. He was a skinny child that had none of her family's weight – in her case curves. Barring those green eyes, it wasn't hard to imagine him as the perfect replica of his father as he got older.

"He gets all his looks from his donor," she joked. "The winning personality is all mine." Ivan chuckled with her.

"Not really," interrupted her father. "You were such a sweet baby, Yuri is very fussy. As for how he'll be in the future, we'll just have to wait and see."

"Meh, it doesn't really matter who he takes after, he's a great kid. I'm sure whatever he decides on he'll go far," said Ivan, just as he loaded the last bits of toot into the boot. Karina hugged him good bye and gave a mechanical kiss as she thought on what had been said.

Yuri didn't take after anyone on her side, and she knew next to nothing about Mr One-night-stand. No medical history, no connection to any family other than her and her father.

"I don't know anything about Yuri's father."

"I know, you said it was a one time thing," Nikolai replied.

"I don't know anything, what if he has some rare genetic disorder. Or, or what if there's a history of terrible mental illness, and for all we know Yuri could be allergic." Karina might have panicked... just a bit.

"Karinka, calm yourself. We've managed this long," her father reassured her.

It had been her and her father for so long, she forgot there was a whole side to Yuri that she didn't know. Did married woman have this problem? Did they one day realize, they shared half of their child with someone? For Karina, Yuri was hers, her lovely little party crasher. It was weird to think to an unknown man, Yuri was his as well.

Winter melted to Spring. Yuri celebrated his 5th birthday, he was disappointed again that there was no cat. With the pond liquid again, Yuri's only skating opportunities were reduced to Ivan's infrequent visits to the local rink.

"He always wants to do hockey," complained the young boy one afternoon.

"You don't like hockey?" Asked her father.

"No."

"Why not?"

"It's stupid, they're all chasing one ball, they could just get their own."

"What do you want to do on the ice?"

"Dance! Like Victor."

Yuri was given ballet lesson's for his birthday.

Another change came in the form of a career opportunity for Karina. A friend had recommended her for a front desk job in one of Moscow's prominent hotels. It was currently in trail period, but she was hopeful, the market job was never a plan for Karina. She wanted to succeed, even though she'd put her dreams on hold for Yuri, they were still there.

The work was good, and the pay better. Karina had a polite and agreeable nature that did well in most customer service positions. She learned quick and was confirmed for the open position in just a couple of weeks.

On top of that raise, the hotel preferred live music in the dining room. An audition later and she had a place on their performance roster. It wasn't her usual genre but, Karina kind of liked it. Slow and sensual, a far cry from her pop days. She used Ivan's last name to further separate herself from Karina Plisetskaya, pop princess.

Karina Kovalyova was a hit and rising star on live performance circuit.

Yuri was too worn out to be grumpy, her father's back had been pain free for the last couple of weeks, and Ivan was testing the waters with talks about future plans and houses. Karina's life was back on track and maybe it would never be as glamourous as it would have been without Yuri, but she'd deal, like she had with everything else. Karina could love what she had, she knew it.

The day started in a bang, an important guest was arriving. The staff moved at a quick pace like little worker bees. Karina was delegated to paperwork in the back room, as the hotel manager was personally seeing to the guest and his entourage's needs, and another more experienced employee had been appointed to the front desk.

It didn't bother Karina, she and women on break had a fun twenty minutes comparing photos of their kids. Irina had the cutest little girl called Nadia, and they collectively cooed over little Yuri in his ballet shoes.

"Oh look at that scowl, he looks so cute."

"I know, don't let the face fool you, he loves his dance," said Karina.

"He'll be a heart breaker, look at that face. So handsome."

"Should we be setting him up with little Nadia," joked one maids.

"Not if you want her to start crying. Yuri's a terror with his words," said Karina. "His Grandpa likes to say he's abrasive, I think he's just rude."

"Does he get it from his father? My Misha likes to act all tough, but he's a sweetheart – just like his Papa," Alisa reassured her.

"Don't let it bother you, he'll soften as he gets older. My brother the same, tantrums all through childhood then suddenly – poof – gentleman," said Polina.

The clock chimed, signaling the end of break. The women dispersed each heading back to work. Karina, enjoying her easy day, took a detour to talk to Sasha – one of Ivan's friends girlfriend – in the kitchens. Ivan's birthday was coming up.

"Hey Karina, how's the job?" She asked.

"It's good, although I'm sidelined today. We've got a very important guest in the presidential suite."

"Mm, we heard. Room service is just about to head up," said Sasha. "Speaking of which, checkout the new guy. If I was single." Sasha nodded her head towards a lean man in the white hotel uniform. Karina honestly hadn't noticed him, the uniform hat hid – what she assumed to be – blond hair and cast just the right amount of shadow over his eyes.

"New?" Karina asked.

"This week sometime, I can't remember when. Cute right," said Sasha.

Karina couldn't put cute and men in the same sentence. It cam form having a son, she was sure. Men where handsome, ugly, baby-faced, or some times just averagely good looking – like her Ivan – but they weren't cute. Boys were cute, me were not. The new worker was not a boy.

Karina could make out a well proportioned face with sharp cheekbones. His body was lean, and while Ivan and his friends would have called the man out as skinny, Karina was somehow sure underneath that uniform was a fierce amount of muscle.

"Hey!" Sasha startled her, bringing Karina back to reality. "First, compare, Ivan – hotel boy. Which is better?"

"Ivan."

"Good answer, secondly, can you do me a favor?" Sasha asked. Karina nodded. "Awesome, I wanna take my break and Polina needs me to run some cleaning supplies up to her."

"I'll do it for you."

"God your amazing. I take it back, go for gold with new guy, Ivan doesn't deserve you."

"I need your card for the staff elevator," replied Karina.

Sasha dug around in her pockets for the card.

"There you go."

"See you later."

Karina found the bottles quickly and a headed out towards the elevator, where new guy seemed to be having trouble with both the elevator and the room service cart.

"Here, let me," she interrupted his poor struggle and used Sasha's card to open the doors. "Don't worry about the card, their really slow about activating them. Sasha's took weeks to work, she just borrowed someone else's."

"Thanks," he spoke clearly, with no real accent from anywhere.

"Where are you going?"

"Presidential suite," he answered.

"No problem, that's top floor," she said, silence was always just a little awkward "I'm just heading to the sixth floor." He simply nodded.

"I haven't seen you in the kitchen before," he said. It wasn't really a question more of an observation.

"No, I work at the front desk, I'm just backstage today due to important guests." The sixth floor was fast approaching, Karina was so thankful. As the elevator slowed for the sixth floor, Karina realized something very important.

"Your key doesn't work."

The man next to her didn't necessarily freeze, but he defiantly tensed.

"You can't wheel the cart down the stairs. Here, take Sasha's card, I can take the stairs from six. Just make sure to put the card back in her cubby. We get charged if we lose anything." The doors dinged and opened.

"Thank you," he said. "You've been very helpful." The nameless man offered her a small smile as the doors closed, through the closing gap she saw him turn to check the cart. There, on his neck was a long and thin scar.

Karina was still dazed when she found Polina, handing over both bottles to the fussing woman. The smile, exactly like Yuri's when he was up to something, like that time he and her father put sardines in a pirozhki and tricked her into eating it.

For some reason the scar was easier to reason away, it could have been the trick of the light, or the edge of his collar. That smile though, that 'I'm up to something' smile, she couldn't get it out of her mind. It was so Yuri, so mischievous and tiny only a mother could spot it on her son.

Did she talk to him? Did she wait for him in the kitchen and confront him, demand his name and that he bear his neck for her to see. Would it change anything, or would it simply open a can of worms she just shouldn't.

"Polina, can I ask you a hypothetical question?"

"Sure."

"If you possibly ran into an Ex that you hadn't seen in years, but you don't know for sure that it's him, would you talk to him?"

"Does he owe me money?"

Karina thought for a second, hard years as a grocery clerk, Yuri's skates, Yuri's ballet, her father hospital bills, and finally her failed career.

"Kind of."

"Is it going to lead to problems with Ivan?" Polina raised an eyebrow at her.

"This is a purely hypothetical situation."

"Is it?"

Karina, actually hadn't thought about that. Mr Father-of-my-child, definitely wasn't short on attractiveness, or – if her memory served her – lacking in anyway between the sheets. However, that really wasn't enough to test her love for Ivan. Ivan put in the work.

"I might, possibly, have run into the father of my child."

Polina smiled, before replying.

"That's much easier to deal with. The question is, do you want him in you and your son's life?"

Karina thought back to the man who inspired fear and fascination. She'd likened him to a snake. He had this aloofness, it was alluring to a young naïve woman but, to her older self it spoke of unavailable man looking only for something physical. He was the type of man women made excuses for.

"No."

It seemed good to finally have that answer. The question subconsciously eating at her without Karina's knowing. The man was gone, he would never be apart of her or Yuri's life, and they were better for it.

The day passed by at unseen speed. Sasha texted her later, telling her the card was in her cubby and all was well, although she couldn't find cute guy. Karina had informed her she was happy with Ivan. After 3 o'clock she was back at the front desk, answering calls and assisting the guests. At 9 o'clock she was let off work and started preparations on her act.

Gone was the dumpy hotel uniform, in its place a long formal dress that clung to her in all the right places. Her mothers pearls – passed from mother to daughter for many a generation – completed the image, she was a dream of sophistication and grace. A far cry from her pop princess days.

She spent an hour on stage, providing an enchanting atmosphere for the dining guests. It was good to feel the applause after each song, polite and loving. Karina could imagine, if she worked hard, being invited to gala's and parties, her name whispered around in reverence as they lauded her appearance at each event. She could be the guarded secret of high society.

Karina managed to stop her day dreaming form there, it had been a long night, all she wanted to do was go home put her feet up and maybe cuddle Yuri. He was very cuddlable, even when asleep, it was probably the easiest time to cuddle her little monster.

She was so exhausted she opened her drivers side door and plopped her absolutely exhausted behind into the seat. It took a couple tries for the engine to turn over and finally start. Un-lady like behavior might have been exhibited. A few minutes later she was on her way home.

She doesn't even register the metallic click from the back seat of the car, and she may not been paying attention the noise that sounded like a throat clearing. So it really came as a shock to Karina when a calm and accent less voice told her to.

"Pull over."

Exhausted Karina did the only reasonable thing to do, she hit the brakes and thanked every god she knew that she drove very slow when tired.

The man in the back – who wasn't wearing a seat-belt – smacked his head against the back of her seat, and in her sleep deprived state, this conversation started.

"Oh my god. I'm so sorry, are you okay?" Karina asked, panicking just a little at the thought of hurting someone.

"I'm fine, it was an accident."

"I'm so sorry, it's just you startled me. Are you bleeding? I think I have some tissues."

"I'm fine."

"This is why we have seat-belts."

He gave her this, 'are you serious' look, and it still took Karina just a bit to understand what was going on. In his hand he held a very serious looking gun, like the police used on TV, maybe that was why none of this felt real, and that the next question she asked was.

"Why did I need to pull over?" And not, "why are you in my car?" Or, "who are you?" Hell, not even, "Why do you have a gun?"

"Because it's dangerous to threaten you while your driving." Definitely sounding a little exasperated, she didn't know why, he was in her car she should be annoyed.

"I'm sorry, threaten me?"

"Yes, who are you?"

"Karina Plisetskaya, I work the desk." He gave her the 'are you serious' face again. Karina was honestly done with today as a whole, and proceeded to unload. "Look, I don't know what's happening! All I can figure out is that you," she pointed at him, stabbing his chest with her finger, "are in my car and that is preventing me from going home and sleeping."

He didn't even have the decency to even look ashamed.

"Do you work for FSB?" Mr Absolute-asshole asked.

"What? No!" Karina exclaimed. "My god! Maybe, once, and only once! I slept with you, many years ago."

That seemed to gain a reaction, she could see the gears turning behind those icy blue eyes. The tight grip on his gun, relaxed ever so slightly, but she really didn't notice that. Karina was just getting started, she had five years of frustration that all linked back to one Russian man.

"In one – one – night, not only did you kill my dreams of stardom but, you saddled me with a little ball of rage and, much as I love him, you and your fucking rod, or whatever dumb nickname you have for it – you ruined my life! I got to spend the next years – years – supporting my father and your son." Karina laughed, hysterical. "Oh and here's the fucking kicker: just when I'm finally getting my life back on track – a boyfriend, another shot at my career, a rude but improving five year old – you show up in my fucking car with a fucking gun! I just want to go home and put my little boy to bed, you fucker. I work fourteen hours to look after him! Get the hell out of my car, and get the hell out of my life!"

The door lock popping up was probably the loudest thing he had ever heard.

As she drove away, Karina realized one thing... she still didn't know his name.

Please Review, Thank you.