Right, I wrote this super quickly and have not revised or edited it at all. I felt prompted by royalfuschia's challenge, but I have three tests and a paper due on thurs and fri so I need to get back to that!

Let me know what you think!

-Ara

PS. Alex Rider and such are not mine, it tis quite obvious...

The lobby of the hotel was shiny. Light glinted off stainless steel counters and quartz marble, the floors flashed with bronze inlay in dark wood. It was like walking into a montage of flashes and blinders. The skylight far above illuminating the glass walls that partitioned the hallways from a sheer drop to the garden on the main floor.

It was terrible.

The reflections couldn't be worse. Line of sight would be a problem, and he had to adjust for all this glass and light. He sighed with disgust and headed to the desk to check in.

The elevator, fully enclosed he was grateful to see, opened and he stepped in with his single bag. Another man stepped in beside him. It wasn't until the stainless steel doors closed and he saw the other man's face in one of those hateful reflections.

The young man's mouth thinned.

"Hello, Alex." The red head said calmly. "What's in the bag?"

Alex didn't know what to say. "You…"

"I am alive." He said, partitioning the words very carefully. The elevator continued up the highrise, at a steady pace. Alex suddenly regretted getting a room on the top floor.

"Yeah, apparently." Alex mumbled. This was surreal.

"So what's in the bag?" The Russian asked, turning to face him with cool ice blue eyes.

"A gun."

The red head nodded, and reached into his waistband. Alex had enough time to prepare himself, one hand outstretched to strike the bigger man, but Yassen didn't step into the attack like he expected. Instead the man spun away, aimed, and fired. Right through the elevator's control box. The monstrous steel box jiggled to a stop. The panel hissed and sparked.

Alex stared, dumbfounded. Then his eyes sharpened and he turned on the man in with eyes wide and angry. "What did you just do?!" A panic rose up in Alex Rider with a sudden vengeance.

On a clandestine mission and here he is, stuck with the world's most infamous assassin, in an elevator. That wasn't at all suspicious. No, Jones would love to get him off the hook for this one!

"Preventing you from making a terrible decision."

"Oh that's rich coming from you!" Alex scoffed. "'Your destiny is with SCORPIA,' my ass! I know why you sent me there!"

"To finish your father's work." Yassen's eyes finally showed a hint of warmth, of fire. He didn't like being accused like this.

"To finish your work, Yassen!" Alex yelled, pointing a finger in the Russian's face, spitting with anger.

"I was in no shape to continue with my plans." Yassen shifted uncomfortably.

"So you sent me? Well, you got your wish. I destroyed SCORPIA, now let me finish the job and leave me alone!" The young man turned to the panel and mashed a few buttons before letting out a growl and punching the contraption in contempt. This was not the Alex Rider Yassen remembered. He would have been worried if it had been.

"You defeated SCORPIA. You did something in a year that no one else could do in decades. You've had your revenge, you do not need to do this."

The boy rounded on him, eyes narrowed. "Do you know what they did? What they did to me? To Jack? This isn't about revenge, this is about closure. If I kill him, no one comes after me. No one will know who took out SCORPIA. If I don't kill him I run for the rest of my life!"

"Then let me kill him."

The excess tension in Alex's shoulders let out. "Fine, you kill him." He said, tired.

"You did not want to kill him?" Yassen seemed perplexed. He must have known about Jack, had expected Alex to want revenge for her death, but really Alex just wanted to be free. To live the way Jack had wanted him to live. In a sick twisted way this was for Jack, Alex thought as he tossed the bag to the Russian assassin. The man caught it in confusion.

"Of course not! All I want is to go home! Instead, I'm in Chicago, tracking down some sick, twisted, freak. Like usual." He grunted, reaching for the sliding doors. He pried at the crack with his fingers and moved the steel apart an inch, but no more.

Yassen allowed himself a small smile at the boy's antics. He unzipped the bag and assembled the rifle with precise, sharp motions.

Alex looked back when he heard the clicks of the different sections coming together. "Don't assemble that in here!"

"When you get that door open, you run out screaming. I'll follow with the gun, and take care of your little problem." He said, his Russian accent laid on thick.

"Oh, are we role playing now?" Alex smirked and shoved harder on the door.

"Yeah, cat and mouse?"

"Cops and robbers." Alex grunted, giving the door one last good push. And as the doors opened he reached out and grabbed a man by his uniform and dragged him inside. A deft knock on the back of the neck had the man unconscious. "You didn't think you could shoot a gun in a hotel and think you wouldn't be heard, did you?" He grabbed the pistol from the man's waist and tucked it underneath his sweatshirt. "He's in Room 625, on Floor 6. Good luck!"

With that, Alex stumbled out of the elevator, shuddering for the camera, and scrambled out of sight. He was on the main floor when he heard the gunshot and a short scream. Then an ominous thud. He didn't know whether he should turn around or not, but curiosity got the best of him.

His enemy lay, broken, on the ground, delivered to Alex's feet. He shook his head and walked out of the building amidst civilian screams.

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