Not A Passing Shadow

Nico wasn't too thrilled with the uniform for Brecon Beacons camp. He was sitting in the back of a jeep, which was driving him to the SAS training platoon, and moodily picking at the greys and greens and browns of his camo jacket and pants. The moss-green of the combat boots reminded him vividly of vomit. At least the t-shirt underneath was black.

"We're here."

Nico looked up briefly before grabbing his supplied duffle-bag and, making sure his walking stick was strapped securely to his hip, started towards the gates. The driver – another SAS man – followed behind, sneering at the fact they'd sent another boy into the camp.

Nico could feel the contemptuous gaze resting on his back and stopped abruptly. He turned his head to the side of a bit, catching the man in his vision. He stopped too.

"Get a move on, brat," he ordered. Nico narrowed his eyes.

"Do you have a problem with me?" He asked softly, though his voice carried back to his escort and sent shivers down the man's spine.

"Course I do," the man grunted, ignoring the signs of danger. "You're a bleedin' kid coming to an army camp and you look like a bloody twig. Do you expect me not to have a problem with you? You better not be in my unit or-"

Faster than the speaker could blink, Nico had spun around and sent a winding kick into the other man's solar plexus. He buckled and gasped, and Nico stood in front of him, his angry aura sucking the light out of the world. The man's eyes widened in fear; the kid looked dangerous now.

"I am aware that people like you do not have any respect for me, and why should you? But I will tell you now that I do not deal lightly with disrespect and when your time comes to meet my father, ultimately I am the one to please. Do not underestimate me, or you will be a very young soul to wander Asphodel."

Then Nico turned around, picking up his duffel bag, and setting off again. The soldier stayed on his knees, air slowly returning to his body, panic clogging his mind as Nico let his powers drift.

"Don't worry, I can find my own way!" Nico called back, the hints of a smile in his voice. The SAS man wasn't worried for the kid, though. He was worried for the people who got in his way.

A soft knock sounded on the door. Sergeant Daniel Sanders stopped looking over a complaint file he was about to bin, and looked up.

"Enter," he said, and the door creaked open. The sunlight washed around the figure, making his face hard to see. Sanders squinted, trying to see who was in his office. Scowling, he held up a hand.

"Close the bloody door!" He yelled, and the door slammed shut. Blinking harshly, Sanders looked for the inevitable person standing on the doormat. But there was no one. He looked around.

Sanders almost jumped out of his chair.

A pale boy with black hair and dark eyes was already seated in the chair on the other side of the Sergeants desk. He blinked coolly, and Sanders took in his lithe form, the walking stick, and unnatural presence in a second. He also noted how extremely out-of-character the boy looked in green. Sanders sniffed in distain.

"I was told I was to be expecting a new face," he sneered. "What I didn't expect was another teenager!"

Nico shrugged. Sanders scowled again.

"I haven't even got your damn file kid, so you better have it or I'll be throwing you out of this camp by your balls."

The pale youth smiled eerily and the Sergeant actually clamped his mouth shut. Nico reached inside his jacket pocket and produced a folder.

"Here," he said softly, holding the document wallet out. "I expected to be asked for identification and recommendations, so I snagged a copy. The e-mail should be coming in soon anyway."

Sanders raised an eyebrow. How'd a kid 'snag' a copy of his own file from the CIA? Opening the document, Sanders saw the page was only half-filled. He read it to himself.

Name: Nico di Angelo

Age: Fourteen

DOB: Unknown

Family: Unknown (being looked in to)

Acts of Service: Solely caught a wanted criminal in a near-impossible time-space.

Precautions: Secretive. Has managed illogical feats (see Joe Byrne for details)

Sanders grunted shut the file, not amused.

"Seems like you're nothing special, kid," he said, scowling. "So why'd they send you here if you obviously can't do anything other than pick off petty criminals from the streets?"

Nico had been expecting this, and had an answer loaded on his tongue.

"Mr Byrne and I have been debating for weeks over calls," he explained. "When I arrived at his CIA headquarters, I asked for my demand and they refused. So, I was questioned, and I'm afraid I lost my temper a tad and, well, you can ask Mr Byrne where that went."

Sanders adopted a sick smile.

"No, kid, I'm asking you." He grinned maliciously. "Show me your little temper tantrum."

Nico sighed in annoyance and stood up. His walking stick banged the desk. Sanders was about to grin and jibe at him why a fourteen year old needed a walking stick, before something pure black flashed in front of his eyes and a cold feeling spread along his throat. His eyes widened until they were the size of saucers.

"You could be dead in seconds," Nico said calmly as he held the sword to the Sergeants neck. Sanders had gone completely still, fear erupting in his mind as Nico smiled serenely and cocked his head.

"This is my temper tantrum, sir," he said, a crooked grin twitching his lips. "And I advise you to believe me when I tell you I am well equipped and hard to break. So, I invite you to bring it on."

Quick as it was there, the sword was gone. Sanders' face was pale and he was shaking like a leaf. A gun never scared him that much. Neither did a knife. That sword of Nico's was something else, something unnatural, and Daniel Sanders had no wish to meet its end again.

"I see," he said slowly. Hesitantly, he tapped the Illogical feats marking on the file. Suddenly he was afraid to ask, but Nico had seen it and another grin was forming.

"I thought you'd want to look into that," he mused, a vampire-like smile consuming his lips. "Very well. I'll give you a demonstration."

Sanders sat there at his desk as Nico went to the door and wrenched it open. Throwing a look that screamed triumph over his shoulder, Nico closed the door. The Sergeant was left to sweat until Nico turned up with his surprise.

A full second passed and for that time Sanders thought the boy was bluffing. But then a cold feeling spread out behind him and something came down on his shoulder. The touch was light, but the Sergeant felt the freezing skin prickle through his uniform.

"Miss me?" Nico whispered. Sanders jumped in his chair and whipped his head around to stare, wide-eyed and completely freaked, at the utterly impossible boy behind him. Struggling to control his emotions as he had his whole life, Sanders gestured for Nico to take a seat. He did so, facing the man behind the desk.

"Right then," Sanders said, false confidence pouring through every word. "You're in, kid." He smiled nervously. "As long as I'm never on the receiving end of that sword again."

Nico nodded, another satisfied smile flashing over his face.

"Don't worry, sir," he said. "It usually has that effect on people."

Nico stood to leave, reached for the door, and turned around again.

"I was wondering though," he started. "Do you think there could be an exception to the, ah, choice of colours for this uniform? If there was a way to dye it black…"

Sanders laughed, easy once again. This boy was on his side. He even dared to crack a joke.

"Sure, kid," he waved it on. "If you can find a way to make that outfit of yours black, be my guest!"

Nico caught the sarcasm, but shrugged it off and trust his arms downwards. The shadow on the floor started growing and, to the eternal shock of the Sergeant, began to climb up the boys boots. It rippled and twisted up his uniform, and everywhere it went, blackness was left behind, turning the brown, green and grey uniform black and grey. Even the boots were turned dark. The shadow reached Nico's neck, then just stopped and fell away. Sanders was on the verge of collapse when Nico turned around and flashed him a white-toothed smile.

"Thank you, Sergeant," he said, containing a short laugh at the sight of the man's face. "I feel better now."

He reached once again for the door, but looked over his shoulder before pulling it open.

"I don't expect you to tell anyone what you just saw," he said solemnly, a threat dancing in his eyes. "I am a person who judges men by whom they respect. Where I come from, respect is mandatory. I respect you enough to keep this between us. Okay?"

Sanders jerked his head in hurried agreement before shuffling through another paper.

"Okay Nico," he said. "Here at Brecon, we don't have names. We have code names, an example being the leader of your new Unit: Wolf. The Medic: Snake. And so on." Sanders shuffled Nico's file around before writing something down and showing the boy his allocated name.

"This is yours."

A deep and, what could only be evil, chuckle resonated around the office. Nico tipped his head back and cackled again, the sound raising the Sergeants hairs on their ends as Nico read the code name. Before he could get his bearings though, the teen had gone, leaving behind only the echoes of his humour. Sanders cradled his head.

First bloody Alex Rider himself arriving tomorrow, He thought, and now this unexplainable boy? SAS seems to be attracting all the weirdoes.

Pretending he never saw anything Nico di Angelo did in those last few minutes, the Sergeant sent for K-Unit. Their newest member was not someone who should wander Brecon Beacons alone.

I am honesty touched. I never thought this story would get so much attention. Already nearly 500 views! And thank you so much to everyone who reviewed and followed/favourite.

Now, I got asked by a Guest if this was going to be an Alex/Nico pairing story. I'm not going to answer, because that would ruin my plan, but anyone who doesn't like it has nothing to worry about, and anyone who supports has nothing to worry about. Basically, you'll both be happy. I hope. I'm mostly aiming for friendship, but with the climax coming and past events in the PJO series, I think you'll like it.

But do tell me if you think I should/shouldn't do it!

Thank you again!

Jasmine Out!