Wall of Disclaimers is up.

Now, Phuket.

Alex breathed in the chilled air of the airport. Just moments ago, he had gotten off a plane from Taipei. They had spent the first week in Japan and Korea alternately fighting ninjas and assassins. The second week had been a tour of China, a really lovely place he didn't get to enjoy last time. He spared a glance to one of the many mirrors in the arrival terminal. He looked different than he had.

He looked healthier now. There was a faint tan on his skin that hadn't been before. The bags under his eyes from late night stake outs had faded. His cheeks had a lively, ruddy color. His hair was no longer limp but glossy and sticking up all over. His eyes were back to their striking brown and no longer blood shot. The last half year of running (and hiding) had built up some muscle. Yassen insisted that they go running every morning and stuck to his Spartan regimen, where ever they went.

Speak of the devil, Yassen strode across the room, dragging their luggage with him. There were only two medium sized bags. Most of the time, Alex had an extra set of clothes and gadgets in his. Everything else was disposable.

"I have a cab." Yassen was gesturing to the man waving frantically at them. Somehow, they arrived at rush hour and their driver was getting ready to get going.

"Are we going to face the same problems as last time?" Alex hefted his duffel over his shoulder. It was heavier than when he left London. Somehow, in their travels, he picked up things.

Yassen replied with a tone only slightly warmer than the room, "No, the driver and his wife are very happy together." Alex nodded. He didn't need to explain the random cab driver who thought it a good idea to be acquainted with Alex's pants. Yassen hadn't thought it a good idea either.

Someone had ended up in the A&E.

Alex took a deep breath of air conditioned air. He had forgotten why tropical countries always had air-conditioning. It was a sauna outside. He and his long sleeved shirt didn't stand a chance. Yassen, in his thin t-shirt, gave him a pitying look and proceeded to check in. Alex took that time to recline on a firm, but not quite uncomfortable, chair.

The hotel was richer looking than the last one. The staircase was made of solid marble for one and the columns that supported the high ceiling were gilded. Beyond the lobby, there was a bar that started its jazz set already. A woman was practicing something that sounded like creamy Italian. Everything seemed to be brightly colored though. The walls were a vibrant orange and covered in multi-color paintings. The floor rug under his feet was a royal blue color and gold edging. The hotel didn't seem any grander than the ones around it on the outside. That was somewhat comforting.

There was a tap on his shoulders. Yassen's eyes flicked from him, to the street. Alex understood and kept his face hidden from the windows all the way to the elevators.

"Yassen, I'll need some new sneakers." Yassen grunted in return. He was busy catalogueing his own belongings. They had already bomb and bug searched the whole room.

Unsurprisingly, it was clear of both. Definitely a step up from the last place they stayed though.

Alex had picked up many things in his bag along the way. When landing, he would always clean it out and take log of what he would need to replace. Alex unpacked his things taking time to treasure the memories of all that was in there.

He had a photo of his parents, something form London. After, there was a plastic shot glass from Rio. Underneath was a shawl from India, something he bought from a lady who tried to kill him later. France had given him a copper Eiffel tower and a round of bruises, all faded by now. A souvenir shell from Cuba was natural as the maracas from Mexico. He bought one of those Japanese manga in Akihabara. There was a poster from a concert he went to in Korea.

Alex had a plastic poncho from "the Maid of the Mist" in Toronto. He did get what looked like a mancala board from Morroco. He could never be sure if the chips were from using it to deflect bullets or were already there. The colored marbles were long lost but for a good reason. A small rock from Yassen's cabin found its way into the collection. That was something he would never admit to.

Suddenly, it didn't feel he was so much running as he was going on a tour of the world. And in a way it was. He was still fighting off people who tried to kill him but he spent more time being a tourist doing tourist things.

He spied the last thing in the bag. It was a playing card, left at the bottom of his bag since fleeing Canada. He hadn't thought about it since then.

Alex rustled through all the gadgets and loose immunity stickers. He picked up the deck of cards Smithers had given him.