Here is another chapter, some more of Alex and Sienna interacting. I'm hoping to give some insight into what makes Alex tick, what makes my Alex different from Anthony Horowitz's. Anyway, read, enjoy and please review!
Alex Rider's house was a local point of interest. The women of the neighbourhood speculated that there was an elderly guardian that lived behind those gates, who was tended to by the teenage boy who came and went as he pleased.
Certainly, there was no debating the wealth of whoever owned the property. No other house had a gated front yard in the area; in fact, most houses didn't even have a front yard.
The house had used to be one of four, located at the end of a "mews" as they were known in inner-London, but were simply dead-end lanes which were cobbled.
When Alex had come upon the place, it had been in transition. The two houses on either side of the entrance were being knocked down, to build new residences which fronted onto the park that lay in the middle of the square. The third and fourth houses were being sold off to fund the expansion.
Alex, who had been looking for a new residence ever since the incident with Tom Starbright, which had led his sister who was also Alex's housekeeper, to return to Washington. Alex had known he couldn't stay in his current locale, but he needed to stay in London, and he liked the area. The opportunity had been too good to pass up.
At the behest of MI6, the council refused plans to place windows overlooking the alley entrance, which meant that after three metre high gate had been installed, Alex's privacy and security was guaranteed.
The two remaining houses were purchased for a tidy sum, half of which Alex had funded with the sale of his Chelsea home. MI6 had not been keen to have Alex sell his first house, claiming they were unsure if they had managed to eradicate or even discover the classified information hidden there completely.
Alex had sold it anyway. There were a few too many painful memories for him to want to keep it.
His new house had been constructed especially, and it wasn't just the security, either. The walls, for instance, were three times thicker than average and the roof was reinforced with double trussing. Neither was made from traditional building materials.
Alex had insisted in creating his own, personalized security system, much to the annoyance of his MI6 handlers. They never liked not knowing how to get to their agents, but Alex had stood firm. His house would be accessible by him alone.
He pulled the Mercedes to a halt, and keyed in the access code to his phone. His entire security system was controlled from his phone, a device he had the utmost faith in. It had, after all, been given to him by Smithers.
The gates swung open, and gravel crunched under the tires as the C320 pulled slowly into the laneway.
"So this is your house," Sienna Atherton said, peering up through the pitch black of the early morning to look at the two story dwelling.
"This is my house," Alex confirmed slowly, finally killing the engine.
They both opened their doors, although Alex was forced to unhook the latch on the driver's side door by hand given that he ruined the lock mechanism breaking into it.
"What is going to happen to the car?" the Prime Minister's daughter enquired, glancing back at the vehicle that had transported them there.
"I imagine MI6 will seize it, crush into a small cube, and then it will eventually be used as a dog food can or whatever they recycle them into these days," Alex replied.
"What about the owner?"
"I'm sure your concern is admirable, however, I wouldn't worry. In my experience, civilians are offered something twice the value of what they lost in exchange for their silence. You never know, his decade of suffering without parking sensors and sat-nav might be over because of our generosity in pinching his car. Now come on, get inside before I realise that leaving you out here is far preferable."
"You really aren't very nice to me," she muttered, as she strode past him, through his front door.
The interior of Alex's house was modern, all wooden floors and glass, belying the ivy covered stonework of the exterior. Of course, he had been informed that this was fashionable, but he had taken the woman's word for it.
It suddenly dawned on Alex that he had the Prime Minister's only daughter in his house, and he was expected to entertain her until her father and mother arrive.
She was standing in his hallway, looking expectantly at him, and he suddenly wished he was back in Morocco and had five people shooting at him again. Anything was going to be easier than however long they were going to make him suffer for.
"Would... would you like a drink?" Alex enquired tentatively. This was his house, why was he nervous suddenly? He never like social interaction, there were no definable rules, no prep work to be done, no scouting of locations. It just happened, and everything was down to interpretation.
"Did I just hear Alex Rider stutter?" asked a shocked Sienna Atherton.
"Would you like something to eat or drink?" asked Alex, more clearly.
Suppressing a cheeky smile, his charge nodded, and Alex gestured through to his kitchen, trying to keep a sneer from his features. So he didn't deal so well with people when he had no ulterior motive or angle of attack. Big deal. He had more important things to do than learning the art of genuine conversation. He was more interested in being able to bluff his way through small talk and discerning relevant clues. Or so he told himself.
Alex's kitchen was a similarly lavish affair, not that his house guest was used to anything else, he assumed. Sienna Atherton perched herself on a stool by the centre island bench, and tapped her heels against the wooden floor in a most irritating manner.
"What would you like to drink?" Alex asked, holding the fridge door open to display his range, which was not wonderful. Juices, energy shakes and cold water were about the extent of his beverage selection.
"Have you got anything a little stronger?" the blonde enquired, coyly twirling a strand of hair.
"I don't drink alcohol," Alex replied, "neither do I smoke or take drugs. MI6 contract clause stipulates that I submit to all forms of testing during my bi-monthly physicals. I like to keep my body in absolute peak condition."
"You don't drink, you don't smoke, do you go out? Like with your friends?"
"Not really. I mean, my best friend knows what I do, but that's it. No one else who I don't work with or against knows who or what I am. I don't find I have much time for 'going out' and that kind of thing."
"That must be really boring. I mean, don't you won't to go out and spend time with girls and stuff?"
"Unfortunately I don't get much opportunity to update my Facebook or gift my followers with another tweet to ponder, I'm usually too busy serving my country," Alex retorted, sipping his iced water calmly.
Alex had little intention of directly answering her question.
"So what do you want to do with your life then?" she asked, taking the glass of water that he offered, "apart from being a super-spy, obviously."
Alex took a mouthful of water as he considered this question.
"I'm not really sure. I haven't done much planning for the future, what with the life expectancy for active MI6 operatives in the field being what it is and all."
"You really haven't thought about whether this is what you want to do with your life?"
Alex leaned against the bench, and asked a question of his own for a change.
"What makes you the way you are?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It's the same question you asked, in essence. How come you are a vapid, airheaded princess one minute, and an insightful, probing, inquisitive individual the next?" Alex said, rephrasing his question more bluntly.
"You think I'm a vapid airhead?"
"I don't know what to think, that's exactly it. It's like there's a smart, level-headed person inside you trying to break through the outer layer of superficial rubbish."
"What are you, a psychiatrist?"
"I did a course in psycho-analysis of suspects and victims. Teaches you to read people."
"Can we talk about something else? Like, have you got any clothes I could borrow? Because as much as I love this gown, I think I've ruined the hem."
Alex just shook his head, and gestured for her to follow him upstairs.
Hope you liked a bit more background and information about Alex, onto the next chapter!