AN: Hey everyone! I'm back with chapter 4! I'm writing this instead of an essay for English, so lucky you. Too bad writing about what and how narratives signify isn't nearly as thrilling as writing fanfiction.

Chapter 4: Perfect Russian

Alex:

Alex woke up the next day at half past noon. It was unusual for him, as Ian Rider was always one to wake up and seize the day.

He walked down the stairs and ran his hand through his hair. He knew he looked like hell–even last night's hot shower had done little in that regard.

He ran into Jack in the kitchen making herself a tuna fish sandwich for lunch. His nose wrinkled at the smell. "Morning, Jack," he greeted her.

"Alex," she smiled, "You're up late. Did you sleep okay?" He shook his head quietly. "Sorry to hear it," Jack said genuinely, "Can I make you a sandwich?"

"No offense, Jack, but I'd rather be back in Paraguay than start my day with tuna. I'll stick to Cheerios and a cup of tea," he teased, turning on the kettle.

Jack handed him a bowl from the cupboard. "Hey Alex, can we talk? I still feel a little weird about last night."

"Go ahead," Alex replied, pouring himself a large portion of cereal. He splashed in some milk and went to sit at the breakfast nook, facing Jack.

"Sorry you had to find out about Noah that way. I didn't expect you home so soon and you usually call first."

"Tell me more about him," Alex shrugged, taking a bite of his Cheerios.

Jack paused for a second. "Yeah, okay. You're an adult now. Whenever you're gone, I get a little lonely. I've been trying my luck on the dating apps. I wasn't looking for anything serious–just a few dinner dates and fun nights out–but then I met Noah. He said all the right things and has been great. Honestly, Alex, it's been a very long time since I've felt this way."

"So you brought him here?" Alex deadpanned.

"Thanks for the support," Jack rolled her eyes, "I've been seeing him for nearly six months. It's not like I don't know the guy."

"Just promise me you'll be careful, Jack," Alex pleaded with her.

"I promise," she smiled as the tea kettle started to whistle.

Three days later, Alex strode into the Royal and General Bank, rolling his eyes at the security measures. When he arrived on the 17th floor, he barged into the office of an unamused Tulip Jones.

"Tulip," Alex greeted, a smirk on his face.

"Alex," the woman groaned, "What have I told you about knocking on my office door?"

"That I get to disregard the privacy of people who send me on suicidal missions?" He said, playfully raising an eyebrow. Mrs. Jones sighed, unable to respond. "Anyways, I have that mission report you asked me for. It's on time, too." Alex put a red folder on the Head of MI6 Special Operations' desk.

The woman lifted an eyebrow, curious as to how she got Alex to turn it in so easily. Her suspicions are confirmed when she cracks open the folder, revealing a twelve-page mission report, written in perfect...Russian.

"Really, Alex?" She asked, exasperated, "You had to make my life more difficult?"

"S'not my fault you didn't specify the language, Tulip," Alex said as innocently as he could manage.

Tulip groaned, not for the first time during her meeting with MI6's youngest spy. "Anyways, Alex, I want to talk to you about your position here. Congratulations, by the way, on graduating from Brookland, I'm sure that was no easy feat-"

"Yeah, what with all the school you forced me to miss." He replied sarcastically.

"Yes, well," Mrs. Jones coughed, "I noticed that you will be attending Imperial College in London this fall. What with all the school you've missed, it's almost shocking you were accepted into any college, let alone such a good one. Well," she concluded, "you are lucky to have friends in high places."

"You blackmailed a university into letting me in?" Alex asked, incredulously.

"Why, have you got a problem with that?" Mrs. Jones challenged.

"Nope," Alex smirked, "I'm just happy you're finally using that power in my favor."

"Anyways, since we at MI6 have been so kind as to get you accepted into university-"

Alex cut her off, "How about I risk my life on dozens of suicidal missions against my will from ages 14 to 18?"

"I'm offering you a job, Alex, a paid job. The same one your father had and the same one your Uncle Ian had: an MI6 field agent."

"And what will you be paying me for my services?" He asked, raising an eyebrow, "Wait. Actually, never mind, I don't care. Whatever it is, triple it, and add on college tuition, and we have a deal."

"I'm surprised you agreed so quickly," Mrs. Jones replied, clearly suspicious of the agent standing in front of her.

"Well, the way I figure it, I'll be going on the missions either way, and I'd rather be paid than blackmailed."

Mrs. Jones nodded, accepting this. "Very well then. You'll work here from 8-7 on days you don't have class, and on days you do, we can work around."

Alex nodded. When did I suddenly become so complacent around Tulip? He thought to himself, MI6 really has a strong grip around me. I barely even put up a fight before my last mission. I guess I've really been conditioned to blackmail…

"Have you been feeling alright lately, Alex?" Mrs. Jones asked her agent.

"Yeah, twelve straight hours of torture earlier this week has me feeling brilliant." He mumbled, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"No, not physically. The doctor said you'll be fine once your fingers and lacerations heal. I mean psychologically. Lately, you've just seemed...numb. You've lost your spark. It's almost as though you've been conditioned to violence, and nothing even fazes you anymore," The woman said, looking concerned.

Creepy, Alex thought, It's like she's reading my mind. "Yeah. I wonder who's fault that is." He replied bitterly.

"You're really turning into one of us. Stone-cold, emotionless, hiding behind a psychological barrier of your own creation. You scare people, Alex, you shut them out. I'm worried that because you're so isolated and different from everyone, you'll never form a real human connection again. We could talk if you wanted."

Nothing sounded worse to the teenage spy than spilling his guts to Tulip Jones. "I'm alright," he mumbled, getting up to leave.

"Actually, Alex, it would be great for you and me to talk things out. How about every Thursday at 3:00?" Mrs. Jones asked him. Well, it was more a demand than a question. "Yes. This is perfect. I'll see you tomorrow!"

Alex groaned and got up to leave.

Before he went home, he decided to use his MI6 resources for a bit of a personal project.

Using their databases, he searched for Noah Pinkman. He wasn't able to find much, save for a LinkedIn page. Alex learned that Noah worked in IT and attended the University of Southampton back in the day. MI6's search engines weren't able to give him any more information than a quick Google search could have.

Sighing, he turned off his work computer and grabbed his keys. Something still didn't sit right with him, but he wasn't going to bring it up to Jack until he had something more concrete. After all these years, who was he to deny her happiness?

AN: Chapters become much longer after this...