Thanks so much for the reviews guy, I do truly appreciate them. Glad people are liking things so far.

Thanks Timon x3 for pointing out the mistake I made, I knew I would make one soon! I am a huge fan of the books but I often get things mixed up and assume something is right! Will try to make sure it won't happen in the future but as I still am not entirely sure when this would happen, I probably will!

And sorry hurrybee who asked whether it HAD to slash: it does! Hehe sorry, I love Alex slash and there is a distinct lack of it. I wanted to do something different to Yassen/Alex, which there is nothing wrong with it's just that that's usually what you have to read. I wanted to try an OC slash and try to do it well, without htem being all Mary-Sue ish.

Hope it's working!

Alex was already wrapped up in the covers by the time Kai emerged from the bathroom. The room was perfectly heated, not too warm and not too hot, but he tightened the sheets around him subconsciously. He wasn't self conscious, as a rule. But he was about to share a bed with a boy his age he had never met before. Alex had no idea what kind of sleeper he himself was. What if he talked in his sleep and embarrassed himself? He'd heard about people who sang in their sleep, what if he did that? What if he freaked Kai out?

Alex sighed and closed his eyes, knowing that he was just working himself up. He just needed to go to sleep and he'll be fine in the morning, he reasoned.

He woke a few minutes later, not realising that he had even slipped off. The bed was dipping on the other side and it took a moment or two for him to figure out what it meant.

Alex must have looked asleep in the dark, because Kai didn't say a word to him as he got into bed. Even across the gap between them Alex could feel that Kai had had a hot shower; the heat radiating from his skin was making him hot under the sheets. Kai kicked about a bit to get comfy, but seemed to settle after a moment or two.

Alex lay half watching Kai in the dark, thankful for the pitch black of the bedroom. The curtains covering the floor to ceiling windows were ornately decorated and almost too heavy to close, but when they had pulled them shut they had blotted out all light into the room.

"Can you not sleep or something?"

Alex leapt a mile at the sound of his partner's voice mere inches away from him. Obviously the Russian wasn't asleep at all.

"I thought you were asleep!" Alex said, a little put-off at being caught. He buried his face in the covers, hoping that Kai couldn't see his cheeks burning.

"No. I think I slept too long on the plane. Anyway, how does me being asleep give you an excuse to stare at me?"

Alex could hear the jokiness in his tone, but still he burnt with embarrassment.

"I wasn't-"

"Alex don't stress, just go to sleep." Kai chuckled, rolling over so that he faced the blonde, his eyes closed.

An hour later, it was obvious that no-one in the room was asleep. Kai sighed and sat up, ruffling his untidy hair, "I can't sleep."

"Me either," Alex grumbled. Kai lay down again, seemingly not to know what to do with himself.

"We could watch TV?"

"They only have news channels. They said if we wanted anything else we'd have to ring the disk and order it."

"We could read the notes again?"

"I don't know about you, but I've read them three times already."

Kai blew out his cheeks, "Yeah. Me too."

He rolled over to face Alex, looking bored even in the dark, "We could talk for a bit?"

"Sure," Alex said. It was a bit awkward having a conversation with a boy of a similar age whilst sharing a big double bed together, but at least he would have a chance to get to know his partner a bit more.

"So...do you go to school?"

"Yeah. It's a bit of a dump."

"How do you explain all your absences when you're on missions?"

"A series of unexplained illnesses."

"Ah, I see," Kai chuckled.

"Do you go to school?"

"I have done the last two years or so. They all think I'm a bit weird so no-one really asks me where I've been when I disappear for months on end."

"One of my teachers think I've gone a bit crazy, and that I'm seeing a therapist. That's why she thinks I keep disappearing."

Kai full-out laughed this time, "I love teachers. They can never just take your reasons at face value."

There was a pause, and Alex wondered which topic to bridge next.

"Where is your tattoo?"

There was a long, awkward pause, in which Alex realised he may have said the wrong thing.

"It's in a weird place," Kai said, vaguely, "It's nothing special."

"Oh. When did you get it?"

Alex bit down on his tongue. "Change the subject, idiot" his brain was shouting, but his mouth seemed to be running off on its own accord.

"Two years ago. I think."

Alex squirmed in the following silence, wondering how he could scrape back the conversation onto friendly ground. He had never had this much problem talking to Tom, his best friend back in London.

"Why don't I need to be able to speak Russian?" he finally asked, deciding that however obvious it was he needed to change the subject completely.

Kai shrugged, "Probably some reason. I imagine Agent Rhodes will explain at some point, although I don't know why it never occurred to him to say."

"Maybe they think I know Russian," Alex said, although he doubted it. Every time he dealt with MI6 he realised they knew more about him than he cared for.

"What languages do you speak?"

"French, German and Spanish."

"Wow. Impressive."

There was another pause, one that was a little less awkward.

"Ok," Kai laughed, his eyes a little brighter again, "I've got one: what's your worse scar from any mission you've been on?"

Alex pondered for a moment before answering, "I've broken a lot of bones. My worst was probably fractured ribs after I got shot in the chest. I was wearing a Kevlar vest but it punched my ribs hard. What's yours?"

Kai paused for a moment, thinking, "I guess...my worst would be the metal pins in my right shin. If it wasn't for being a member of the secret service, getting through security at an airport would be difficult."

"What did you do to your shin?"

Alex had heard of metal pins being used to reconstruct and heal badly broken bones, particularly after an accident. He had done a lot of skiing, snowboarding and high-risk, high-speed hobbies in his short life, and every instructor had a story of someone who had ended up in the hospital with such-and-such because he didn't do this-and-that.

They were the best kinds of lesson in safety consciousness, and had always kept Alex mindful of the dangers involved in those kinds of pursuits.

"I fell off a roof whilst chasing someone," Kai said, looking a bit embarrassed, "I slipped on a roof tile and fell two stories. Landed on a wooden cart full of potatoes. Apparently it looked exactly like a film stunt, although it hurt a hell of a lot more."

Alex chuckled. They talked for a while longer, but eventually the conversation trickled to a stop as first Kai, then Alex drifted off to sleep.

Agent Rhodes met the two boys for breakfast in the hotel restaurant. He had ordered two croissants, cheese, ham and an orange juice for himself, and a steaming cup of coffee was just arriving.

"Order yourselves whatever you like guys," Rhodes smiled.

Kai ordered coffee and toast, whilst Alex ordered fresh bread rolls, apple juice and a bowl of cereal.

"Did you have a good night's sleep boys?"

"Yes," they replied, in unison.

"Good. Today we need you to make first contact with the opening we've got in the Beckett Circle. His name is Logan Safin. He's a recruiter for the Beckett Circle, and a lazy and stupid one at that. Recently he recruited a batch load of kids from inner-city London to come over and work in Russia. It's a mutual thing the Russian and British syndicate maintain. Kids can be smuggled from one country to the other to pay the other organisation in return for any favours, injection of cash or cover up they may need.

Recently, the British element to the Beckett Circle asked for the Russians to send over some of their investments as they were running low on cash. The Russians did as was asked, and in return Britain are sending over some of their new recruits. We managed to get you boys tagged on that list of kids coming over, and you two will be taken into the inner-Moscow ring. This takes care of you not being able to speak Russian, Alex. They all speak good enough English to teach young recruiters."

Agent Rhodes cut the conversation as the waiter returned to their table, arms laden with gleaming white plates and bowls for their breakfast. When he finally left, Rhodes began talking again.

"Your cover stories are pretty simple. Alex, you were born in Peckham, London. Your parents died in drug-related incidents, and you've been in and out of care since you were ten. You came to the Beckett Circle's interest when you were 12, and have been on a couple of jobs for them. You've done some ransacking of houses, a couple of pick-pocketing missions and some general dogs-bodying.

Kai, you have a Russian father which explains why you speak Russian. But, you were brought up in the East End. Your mother died in childbirth, your father died when you were 12 in a car crash. You ran away from care and, after hearing about the Beckett Circle, insisted you were recruited. You have assisted in the hijacking of a car, you've been involved in a number of thefts and sold some pirate DVDs on the street.

Both of you have no parents, little education, a good record of doing as you are told and were eager to be transferred to Russia."

Kai let out a long breath, then took his first sip of his black coffee, "When do we have to make first contact with them?"

"Late this afternoon. You've been told to meet Logan Safina at an abandoned house where they plan to house you from tomorrow night when they've smoothed some paperwork over with the local mafia. Until then, they expect you to make do, but we want you staying here where we can continue to debrief you."

Rhodes sat back and finished off the last of his coffee, "I imagine I don't need to remind you of the importance of sticking to your cover stories. Remember, Beckett Circle kids of the lowest order don't need to be smart or savvy. Do what is ask of you but don't be too obliging or eager. All you need to do is learn names, faces, get into offices and take documents, take pictures if you can and send them all to us. I hear your man Smithers, Alex, has given you the gadgets necessary."

Alex nodded, "We've got everything we need."

"Good. When we go back upstairs, you will meet Stacey Bloom. She will fix you boys up to look like filthy urchins just smuggled over from Britain."

Alex and Kai met Stacey Bloom in the bathroom of their hotel room, where she had already set up all of her makeup, a rack of clothes and some extra mirrors. The marble counter tops were covered with foundation, blusher, palettes of paint and something wet and brown sat in a clear plastic lunch box. The sink was full of brushes of all shapes and sizes, and a box of needles and thread with a tape measure was perched next to the soap dish. Alex felt like he was in a make-up trailer for some Hollywood movie.

"Morning boys," she chirruped, brightly, "I'm Stacey Bloom. And apparently I've got to make you too look like orphaned street children."

She picked up a huge powder brush and started to rattle around with few tins. As she did so, she gestured to a miserable looking, thin man hunched in the corner by the toilet.

"This is Gaston, my assistant. He will be helping with the clothes etc. Now..."

She stood directly in front of them and eyed them both up. It was the look of a woman who knew what she was doing and had been in this profession for years.

"You must be Kai," she said. Mrs Bloom took a gentle but firm hold of his arm and pulled him into a chair that had been folded out at the other end of the bathroom. She positioned one her mirrors in front of him and gave him a pat on the shoulder. Next, she steered Alex across the other side of the room towards Gaston.

"Gaston will get you fitted with some clothes."

"Really?" Alex asked, trying to rear back a bit. He felt like he could just about manage with Stacey Bloom seeing him in his underpants, but Gaston?

Gaston shuffled out of the room, gesturing for him to follow. Alex tagged along reluctantly, wishing the ground would swallow him up.

Alex had been given disguises and new outfits before, but they had never been quite as awkward as this one. He stood in his underwear staring at the back of Gaston's head as he rummaged around in a rack of clothes similar to the one in the bathroom. He had already tried on a trench coat and a hoody three sizes too big for him, but now he needed two t-shirts, and a pair of jeans and trainers. From the smell radiating from a trunk of shoes close to their bed, Alex guessed these were going to be as authentic as possible.

"Here."

Gaston had a thick Russian accent, which Alex found odd considering his name. He took the t-shirt from Gaston's pale fingers and pulled it on hastily over his head. He was hit by the smell of it as the material dragged over his face. It was damp, and smelt like a dog that had been out in the rain too long. He guessed it was dark blue, but he couldn't be sure.

"Now these."

Instead of a pair of jeans, as Alex had hoped to receive next, he realised with horror that Gaston had thrown him a pair of grey, torn boxers.

"Can't I wear my own underwear?" he protested, as Gaston turned and expectantly waited for him to put them on.

"Would it look good if you were seen wearing glistening white underwear under all those dirty clothes?" Gaston said, as though talking to a small child. He paused a moment as Alex stared down at the disgusting boxers in his hands.

"I can give you privacy," he sighed after a moment, turning around.

Alex begrudgingly pulled off his own underwear and pulled on the "new" pair. Gaston turned back around and studied them.

"They don't fit," Alex said, his cheeks flaming red, "They're way too big."

"In this life you are leading now, you are an orphan, and you get what you are given," Gaston replied curtly, and began to rummage for jeans and trainers.

"I'm an orphan in real life too, but I have boxers that fit," Alex grumbled.

Before Gaston could find a good – or bad - pair of jeans for Alex, Kai came stumbling out of the bathroom with Stacey Bloom's finger digging into the small of his back. She was still smiling, her tight perm bouncing a little.

Kai was only in boxers and a t-shirt, and had been smeared and streaked with mud and dry dirt. His hair was knotted and gnarled and it even looked as though a bit of blood was mixed in with the dirt there. Kai looked exactly like a smuggled child; he even smelt like one.

Kai was also staring aghast at what Alex was wearing.

"Is there a way to opt out of the second-hand boxers?" he asked, suddenly looking a bit pale under the mud on his face.

"You're next Alex," Mrs Bloom chirped, waggling a finger and ignoring Kai completely. Gaston dumped a pair of torn jeans and some mud-caked baseball shoes into Alex's arms and pushed him in Mrs Bloom's direction. Kai reluctantly stood on the carpet in front of Gaston in his bare feet, arms crossed and scowl on his face.

Alex desperately tried to see where Stacey Bloom may have covered up a tattoo, but didn't catch sight of anything before he was shut into the bathroom.

The abandoned house was cluttered from floor to ceiling with junk. Bits of broken furniture, ragged strips of material and a few children's push chairs. Alex swore he could even see one half of a piano through the other garbage.

They had been waiting for ten minutes, having arrived early. They had snuck out of the back of the hotel and had taken a long, complicated route to the poorer part of the city. Arriving from this direction would have looked less suspicious to anyone watching out from them from coming from the area full of hotels, theatres and shopping malls.

Both boys remained quiet, remembering that they were cowed and scared orphans, not spies on a mission. Kai meandered up and down the cleared out space that might have been a dining room, and scuffed at the dust on the floor. Alex perched on the edge of an armchair, not wanting to think of all the things that might be living in his stuffing.

They heard the tap-tap of Logan Safin's shoes before actually seeing the man himself. His belly came around the corner first, following shortly by his nose and the rest of his portly frame. He came to a halt at the doorway and put his hands on his hips, watching the two boys jump to face him with little interest.

"You kids from Britain?" he asked. His English was obviously fractured and was heavily laden with a Russian accent, but it worked well enough.

"Dah," Kai replied, nodding his head. He introduced them both in Russian.

"Good," Safin replied, in English again, "You two have luck, you know. You have been put in best part of the Moscow operative. Moscow is centre of everything. Not like backward countryside."

Both boys nodded obediently.

"You will be living in zis house for rest of time. But not tonight. Tonight, we take over the house properly. We cannot have you in here. You have found somewhere to sleep?"

"Under a railway bridge," Alex answered. They had decided only to fabricate on where or how they were surviving unless asked. If no more questions were asked, they were free to spend another night being debriefed in the hotel without fear of their 'railway bridge' being checked out.

It was obvious Logan Safin didn't give a damn where the two boys were staying. So long as they didn't die of frostbite before they were of use to him, he didn't care.

"Fine. You were asked to come here to make sure that you do not run away. We have give you opportunity in this country and we do not want to be seen as a travel agent. Do you understand?"

Again, both boys nodded immediately.

"I also wanted to make it clear that you must pay us rent for these lodgings. You will not be paid on anything you do for us, but the more you do the lower that rent will be. Find your own way to make money on side. Understand?"

They nodded again. Alex had a sickening sensation sat in his stomach. He couldn't believe how he would feel at this moment if this really was his life. He knew about child labour and forced servitude; no matter what you did you could never pay off the people you worked for. It was a binding contract and you were stuck in it forever, not able to get out.

He hoped that at the end of this, he could stop more kids being brought into the Beckett Circle and finding themselves into what was essentially slave labour.

"Ok," Logan slipped his meaty hands into his pockets, "Now, go. I have team come to clean this place out. Tomorrow you come and make home, meet other children you work with. Night time, you begin your work."

After a pause, Kai and Alex shuffled to the door and passed Logan Safin towards the exit. Alex could smell the alcohol and smoke on Safin as though it lived in his clothes and skin. He hoped he would never have to get close to him again.

Out in the fresh air, the two boys walked in silence in the direction they had come. Their shoes were too small, their jeans with enough holes to let in the cold air, and their hair had stiffened from the dirt and mud.

Both felt too uncomfortable and cold to say anything.

Suddenly, Kai stopped in his tracks and swore loudly. His eyes were fixed on a black saloon car easing its way towards the curb beside them. Alex took a step back as Kai did, on guard and adrenaline kicking in. What was going on? How did Kai recognise the car?

The number plate was personalised, BC KARAM 1, and a bulky figure was driving behind the tinted windows. Everything was still for a moment, and Alex suddenly realised Kai had moved to stand directly between him and the car.

What was happening? Alex waited, frustrated, for something to happen, but Kai seemed frozen.

The car doors opened: passenger, driver's, and the two back doors. The driver was as luminescent and pale as the moon, with a mop of dirty blonde hair on top of his head. He wore shades even though the cloud cover was complete and the air was frigid. Alex could tell the bulges under his coat were not some horrible disfigurement, but some secretly placed weapons.

Two others of similar build and similarly armed lingered at the car's doors, all keeping their eyes directed somewhere else as though on lookout.

The fourth man headed directly towards them, a Cheshire-cat smile on his face. He looked around his early thirties, handsome, but not someone a date would like to take home to meet her parents. His skin was smooth apart from a level stubble around his chin, and his hair was as dark and thick as spilt oil. Standing out from his dark hair were sparkling green eyes. A thin scar nicked at the corner of his mouth, a tiny white thread of damaged skin that extended his smile on one side a centimetre or two. He gave a slight nod, his smile nor gaze on the pair of them wavering. Alex jolted backwards as hands came forward to grab him. The men by the car had been mobilised by the nod and now reached to take hold of them, one taking his left arm and the other clamping two strong hands on each of Kai's upper arms.

Kai spat something in Russian and wriggled against the grip furiously. Alex tried to get some leverage to maybe throw a punch or unbalance his own guard, but the man dug his fingers into the muscles of his arms in such a way that his whole body felt useless and jelly-like. He doubted the move was well known beyond the secret service or the more dubious of body guards.

"Get off me," Alex tried, attempting to jerk himself free. His captor said nothing, his eyes once again turned to the road around them. It seemed oddly void of people or other cars.

The man obviously in charge of this little operation spoke to Kai in Russian, the smile still on his lips. Kai replied angrily, trying again to kick himself free. When he finally subdued, Big Smile reached out a hand and held Kai's chin in his finger and thumb.

Even without understanding the language, Alex knew he had just asked Kai a question. Kai didn't reply, and the silence stretched on.

The man pulled away and shook his head, still smiling. He lamented something with a sigh.

Alex was so frustrated at not being able to understand a thing. Even more annoying was the fact that nobody was paying a blind bit of notice to him. How on earth did these people have anything to do with Kai?

A moment later, Big Smile had turned away and was heading back to the car. When the door was closed behind him, the men holding them let go.

Alex tore himself away, but could do nothing as all the men got back into the car, shut the doors, and the driver pulled away back onto the road.

The silence set in, and suddenly Alex felt the anger start to well up in his chest.

"What the hell was that?!" Alex exclaimed when the car disappearing around the corner at the end of the street.

"Nothing," Kai growled, his arms crossed over his chest, "Nothing. Let's go."

"Kai, he knew who you were! How did he know you?"

"He doesn't know who I am, Alex, not really. He doesn't know I'm a spy, Ok? We're safe. Come on."

"No, wait," Alex demanded, staying put, "Tell me who he was. Could he tell anyone in the Beckett Circle what we're doing here?"

"He's an extension of the mafia, Alex. He's killed and maimed his way to the top of an organisation that is funded to do the dirty deeds needed to keep some people quiet and others from losing their jobs and money, it's called the Black Coats. He's Nikolai Karamzov. He's a bastard. And...and he's supposed to be dead."

Kai seemed furious. Under a thin pretence, Alex could also see that he was panicked, and even a little embarrassed. His breathing was sharp and ragged, and his eyes refused to meet Alex's.

"Alex, he won't know anything about Beckett Circle, I can guarantee that. He'll think I'm living on the street now, that should make him happy enough that he will stay away until....until I can get this sorted. Ok? Now come on."

"How do you know him?"

"It doesn't matter," Kai snapped, already walking away.

When they were back at the hotel room, the silence had become frosty. Alex was seething, but also confused. He hated being kept out of the loop.

"What do we tell Agent Rhodes?" Alex demanded.

"We're not telling Agent Rhodes anything," Kai said, stalking out onto the balcony as though to finish the conversation.

Alex scowled and followed, "What? Why?"

"It has nothing to do with the mission. The mission is still secure, we can still take down the Beckett Circle. Trust me Alex, it's fine-"

"How do I know I can trust you?!" Alex cried, the frustration finally coming out, "You're keeping so much from me! You wanted me on this mission for a specific reason and you won't tell me what that is. And I'm just expected to put up with it and whilst I wait for the answer, I have to put myself in danger in a foreign country where I don't even understand the language-"

"Ok, Alex, I get it," Kai grumbled, turning away and letting his arms drop to his side. He stared out onto the frigid skyline of Moscow, the air clouding his breath as it fell from his lips. Alex waited impatiently for something more, arms crossed in front of him and anger still simmering.

"I'm sorry I have to keep it a secret. But it's safer that you don't know until...until it happens. It's nothing dangerous, I promise Alex. And I'm sorry for what happened today, but I thought the guy was dead. I swear."

He turned back to Alex, the city lights sending outlining his dark hair in a fuzzy glow, "What can I do to show you that you can trust me? Because this won't work if you don't Alex, we might as well just pack up now. And then nothing is going to get solved."

Alex knew deep down he did trust Kai, that the boy was only trying to help. But still, he had trusted people before and they had let him down. He had trusted MI6 to some extent in the past, and it had never worked out well for him. He had promised himself not to let himself get sucked in by them again, by anyone in this field of work. And here was another field agent, asking him to trust him.

If this was any other situation Alex would have insisted he did already trust Kai. But this wasn't any other situation, and Alex still found it hard to get over that bump in the road that was his innate distrust of anyone in the secret service.

"Show me your tattoo."

The request came from nowhere, and even Alex was surprised that he has said it. But his brain slowly started to catch up with his tongue, "You don't have to tell me how you got it or anything. Just show me where it is."

Why that would make him trust him that bit more, Alex didn't know, but he stood his ground. Kai didn't respond for a moment or two, fixing Alex with a long, hard look.

"Ok."

He said, finally. He stepped forward, closing the gap between them. Alex unconsciously held his breath as Kai stopped a hairsbreadth away from him, close enough to feel the heat of their bodies warming the thin air between them.

Kai lifted up the bottom of his t-shirt.

Alex looked down, and the breath he had been holding came out as a silent gasp.

There, on the jutting left bone of Kai's pelvis, sat a black tangle of barbed wire. Like a panicked snake, the barbed wire was tangled and snarled, half curled and half stretched as though heading to encircle his stomach.

Alex stared at it, unabashed, lost for a moment. The make-up that Stacey Bloom had used to blot out the tattoo had already smudged away, leaving it in clear view.

It looked so real; the shadowing, the rich colours. It had been done by a true artist, not a back alley tattooist. Someone wanted to make it look as though Kai had barbed wire wrapped over his hip; like a warning not to get too close.

Alex only blinked again when Kai dropped his top and turned his head away, looking back out over the edge of their balcony.

"And if you want to know? It was Nikolai Karamzov who gave it me. He gets very possessive over the things he thinks he owns."

Kai turned abruptly and walked back into their room, leaving Alex suddenly open to the evening chill. Alex shivered involuntarily. He didn't move for a minute or two, until he started to feel the cold seeping into his extremities. His toes and fingers were numb, and he blew hastily in his cupped hands to get some life back into them.

He stomped back into the hotel room, making sure not to make eye contact with Kai. He wasn't even sure what he would say to him. But there was no fear of awkward silences; Kai was gone.

Alex breathed an inner sigh of relief.

He still wasn't asleep when Kai returned, but he kept his face hidden in the pillow and his eyes screwed shut. He faked heavy breathing, but he soon realised it wasn't going to convince Kai he was asleep.

"Why did you think Karamzov was still dead?" Alex asked.

Kai's voice came from the dark, sounding further away than it had the other night, and Alex realised he was squeezed to the other side of the bed completely.

"Someone shot him. In the back. Twice. I should have known it didn't kill him."

"What? Why?"

"No reason. I just...look Alex we've got one night left in a comfortable hotel room. We should get some sleep."

"Ok. Good night."

"Night."

Alex frowned into the pillow, his mind a whirl. He had hoped the two of them would get on, but now he wasn't sure where this left them. Could he really trust Kai?

Or would he be stupid to throw away a friendship just because of the incident. After all, Kai was probably the only other teenage boy in the world who knew what Alex felt, that dark feeling he harboured in the back of his mind every day.

Confused, Alex closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep, to enjoy the last night in a comfy bed. The next night was going to be considerably harder.

Tell me what you think!! Thanks guys.