Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.

A/N: This was a request from JadedKrystal! I'm not sure if this is what you were expecting… Does this qualify as being a crack fic?

Note: I've never had Jammie Dodgers – ever. Do they come in packs? Or sets? Something like that…?

Semper Paratus: Always prepared

Semper Paratus

"I'd like to make a request," Alex said very seriously, leaning on Mrs. Jones desk. He had just returned from his latest mission half an hour ago. He'd been in some jungle in some country that he hadn't bothered to learn about.

Mrs. Jones inclined her head, "What is it?"

Alex stared grimly at the woman, trying to convey the importance of his request with his eyes, "I need seventeen – no more and no less – packs of Jammie Dodgers."

Mrs. Jones simply stared at him, one eyebrow arched up rather elegantly, "And what are these biscuits for, may I ask?"

"Well..." Alex dragged out the word and spun around, throwing himself ungracefully into one of the chairs in front of her desk, "Do you watch Doctor Who?"

Mrs. Jones gave him a look that clearly conveyed that she was unimpressed.

Alex plowed on, "Well, there's this episode where the Doctor – oh, come on, you have to know who he is – faces the Daleks, and he pretends that this Jammie Dodger is a bomb detonator. It's brilliant!"

Mrs. Jones continued to stare at him.

"Plus, they're delicious," he added as an afterthought.

Mrs. Jones let out the tiniest of sighs, moving her gaze away from the teenager, "One pack."

Alex grinned at the compromise. A year or two ago, she wouldn't have agreed to anything he asked for.

But where would he get the other sixteen packs of Jammie Dodgers? Of course, he could easily purchase them himself, but that was a bother. He could already think of twenty ways he could be killed at the market.

"Two," he reasoned, "one to eat and one for emergencies."

Mrs. Jones made a motion like she wanted to scoff, but she nodded instead, "Fine. Two."

"Thanks Tulip!" Alex made his way to the door, a large smirk on his face, "I expect them at my doorstep at exactly 0900 tomorrow."

And he left.

SEMPER*PARATUS

"Oh my gosh! He's back!"

Alex sighed as he stalked down the hallway of Brookland Comprehensive. He had gotten used to the regular whispering that accompanied wherever he went, but it didn't stop the irritation he felt.

He reached his classroom, rolling his eyes as a couple girls threw themselves out of his way with a squeal, and sat down at his desk, putting his backpack down beside him. There was a small rustle, indicating that his set of Jammie Dodgers were still there.

He hadn't brought his gun to school that day. Mrs. Jones condemned the thought of bringing a lethal weapon into a place with innocent children. Alex wouldn't have agreed with her a year ago, but he had started to respect the woman.

For now, Alex was equipped with an earring that could send a distress signal to MI6 (and could also become a headset), a pen with ink that melted metal, and an exploding coin that he knew he wouldn't be able to use. The explosion would be too large.

"Hola, mi amigo!"

Alex looked over to his side to see his one and only friend, Tom Harris, grinning at him.

"Where were you this time?" He asked. Alex smiled, glad at the normalcy in Tom's demeanor. He would say the same thing every time Alex returned from a mission.

"Paraguay," Alex responded, half-joking, "Or Uruguay. Or maybe Zimbabwe. I'm not too sure."

"Any fit chicks?" Tom questioned, wiggling his eyebrows in a suggestive way that made Alex chortle with laughter.

"I was too busy trying not to get myself killed," Alex deadpanned.

Tom's smile faltered for a moment, but it quickly popped back onto his face, "Oh, the horror! Woe is me!"

The class had suddenly quieted at this point, and Tom's voice cut through the silence rather loudly. The students giggled as the teacher stared sternly at him.

"Settle down now, Mr. Harris," the teacher said authoritatively, "Now, as you all know, we have a very special presentation today. Special guests from a bank have come to give a lecture on investments and the best ways to save money."

Alex raised his eyebrows, glancing sideways at Tom, who shrugged, mouthing, 'No idea'.

"Let's head down to the auditorium, shall we?" the teacher gestured towards the door, a false smile on his lips. He was obviously not looking forward to the assembly.

In unison, the students rose and filed out of the room, chattering to their friends. A few sent venomous looks at Alex as he tried to join the flow with Tom. He frowned, annoyed.

Tom noticed his mood a fraction of a second later, "Don't worry, mate. They'll get over it."

"Yeah," Alex muttered to himself.

"Well, that is," Tom pulled him to the end of the stream of students and they began their trek to the auditorium, "Until you disappear again and come back, then disappear again, then come back, and disappear aga-"

"I get it, thanks," Alex rolled his eyes.

"Whatever," Tom rolled his eyes right back at him, "Hey, let's sit at the back – we can eat those Jammie Dodgers you brought today."

"How did you…?" Alex trailed off, staring at his best friend in surprise, "Right. Your favorite, isn't it?"

Tom shrugged, leading Alex into the auditorium and to the second to last row of seats, "Your spy skills astound me."

Alex knew it was a sarcastic remark that no one else would think about twice, but he still couldn't help tensing and a very quiet 'shh!'.

"Relax, mate," Tom pulled Alex down to sit, "It's not like your buddies know where you are, right? The Sixers have your back."

"What does a basketball team have to do with anything?" Alex played dumb, laughing inwardly at the dirty look Tom sent him, "Just because they claim to have my back, doesn't mean they do. Don't you remember the time you got shot-"

"Hush!" Tom put a hand over Alex's mouth, "We do not speak of it!"

Alex gave him a cross look.

"Good morning," Mr. Bray was at the podium, speaking into a microphone. Behind him, stood three men, dressed in formal grey suits that seemed to match.

Alex froze, recognizing them, "that bit-!"

"These people are here today, representing the Royal and General Bank, to teach you about investing your money."

There was a thinly veiled groan of despair that circulated among the students.

"Please give them your full attention."

"You didn't know about this?" Tom asked in a whisper, leaning close to Alex.

"No," Alex was glaring at the first man who spoke. He recognized the man to be one of the younger field agents, probably just fresh out of university.

Tom leaned back in his seat, "Your boss sucks."

Alex rifled through his backpack and withdrew the pack of Jammie Dodgers. He broke open the seal and offered one to Tom, "You only realize that now?"

They settled into comfortable silence, staring at the agent on the stage. Both were pretending to listen, but in reality, they were munching on their biscuits, thinking of – in Alex's case – pink toads.

He was so concentrated on envisioning a pink toad, that he nearly missed the tingling feeling on the back of his neck, warning him of danger. Nearly.

His hand crept to his ear, where the emergency signal could be activated on his earring, but hesitated for a moment. Alex's feelings were usually correct, but there were moments when he was simply paranoid.

A moment later, Alex was reminded of why he never hesitated. The doors of the auditorium burst open with a spectacularly loud noise. The whole student body turned to peer at the commotion. The MI6 agent even stopped too.

Alex turned as well, pressing his earring three times, hoping to blend in with the crowd.

Seven men trooped in, armed and very lethal. Without even a second glance, Alex could tell that these people were from the Middle East. Yemen, perhaps. One of the failed states. Of course, it helped to see on second glance, the small symbol on their shirt sleeves.

"Shut up!" the man who had entered first had a little accent, "Or I'll shoot each and every one of you."

The auditorium quieted within a moment.

Impressive, Alex thought to himself. He'd have to remember that one for next time. Though he did doubt he would get to use it.

Five men positioned themselves in strategic locations while the first man and another militant made their way on stage, still pointing their guns threateningly.

The MI6 agent made a motion as if he could draw his concealed weapon fast enough, but was stopped as the man chortled.

"I wouldn't try it, agent. I know exactly who you are." the man smiled mockingly, "All three of you. Move slowly and retrieve your weapons. Put it on the ground – slowly – and slide it over to me."

Alex turned his attention away from the front of the room when his earring began to buzz softly. That would be the headset part of it, then. He'd never actually used it.

He unclipped the earring (thankfully, he'd opted not to get real piercings and had a clip-on one instead) and awkwardly jammed it in his ear.

"Alex! Alex, are you there? Damn it, Smithers! How do we know he's there?" It was the unmistakeable voice of Mrs. Jones, who sounded worried. It was surprising considered her emotional range was about the size of a teaspoon.

"He's just put the device in his ear. I programmed it to be-" Smithers. With his Scottish accent. He must have taken off his fat suit.

"Yeah, fine. Alex, if you can hear me, we're coming. The three agents already in should be able to hold them off for a while."

Alex twitched with amusement. The three agents had been tied up and thrown in a corner.

The first man had taken his place at the podium, scanning the faces of everyone in the crowd.

"Alex. Rider," the man said after a moment of scrutinization, "Agent Alex Rider. If you would be so kind as to step up…?"

Beside him, Tom shook his head furiously as the students began to whisper quietly, "No, you can't go!"
"I heard all of that Agent Rider," Mrs. Jones said in his ear, "You're friend is right. Stay seated."

"Oh," the man shrugged, "I forgot."

Alex was already half way out of his seat when the man fired directly at the MI6 agents' feet.

"I will repeat: Alex Rider. Come to the stage."

"Agent Rider, you and I will have a serious talk when this is over. Clear?"

Alex ignored the voices as he made his way to the stage, an uneaten Jammie Dodger still dangling from his fingertips.

"Ah, hello Alex," the man smiled coolly as Alex appeared at the foot of the stage, "Come up here. I've been meaning to meet you for a long time."

"You're lying," Alex replied, just as coolly, stopping on the top step of the stage stairs, "I'm a target to you. Nothing more. Nothing less. You've probably only just heard of me this morning."

The man gave him a look that somewhat represented a pout, though it was ruined by the man's ugly features, "Now that's not true. You Riders are somewhat a legend in the espionage world."

Alex gave him a glare as the students in the crowd grew louder with hisses of, 'I knew it!'

"Smithers," Mrs. Jones sighed in his ear, "Print out several hundred OSA's."

"I'm glad I left such as lasting impression," Alex smirked, "What do you want? To kill me? To torture me? I don't think it went well with others in the past."

The man's features tightened, "I will be the one and only man to bring down the mighty Alex Rider! I will be worshiped among my people!"

He raised his gun slowly, pointing it at Alex' forehead. He seemed to savor the fear in the air.

"Woah, hold on a second, mate," Alex was suddenly hit with an idea as he realized that he still might have a chance left, "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

The man raised his eyebrows questioningly, "And why is that?"

"Alex, I really hope you won't do something stupid… I just need you to hold them off for a couple more minutes, okay?"

"See this?" Alex held up the Jammie Dodger in one hand, holding it confidently in front of him, even though he knew it was a long shot, "It's a bomb detonator. I have one planted right here in this room. Shooting me… Well, I won't be the only one dead."

The man hesitated, which was enough for Alex. He inwardly grinned, triumphant.

"This qualifies as stupid. Just so you know."

"Why does it have a heart at the center?" the man obviously thought it was a legitimate question, steeling himself.

Alex scoffed, "Oh, so you've never decorated your weapons? I bet you have a nice knife somewhere, all dolled up with stickers of ponies and unicorns."

The man visibly gulped, his eyes darting around. In a whisper, he asked, "How do you know about that?"

Man, this guy was so gullible. Alex wanted to laugh.

"Put down your gun slowly and tell your pets to do the same. You're going to stay there with your hands up in the air, and I'm going to tie you up. One false move and we'll all be blown into little tiny pieces."

The man followed Alex's instructions, visibly quaking. Alex knew that he could be pretty intimidating, but he was fairly certain he didn't have this effect on people. The guy must have a terrible phobia.

"Now call your goons to do the same thing. Up to the stage, lined up neatly and quietly. Hands up in the air."

The man hesitated, but Alex waved the Jammie Dodger teasingly. The man nodded and called out in Arabic. Alex understood most of it, but he still wasn't very fluent in the language.

He finished tying up the militants, grinning all the while. He leisurely strolled over to the first man and took a bite out of his Jammie Dodger. The seven men flinched in unison.

When the man realized that nothing had happened, he gaped, enraged.

"You… you tricked me!"

Alex shrugged, polishing off the rest of the biscuit.

"What did I tell you, Jones? Semper Paratus!"

A/N: Okay, sorry for being MIA for a while. To be fair, I did warn you on my profile page, lol. I had a music camp (which was literally the best 10 days of my life) and more Precalc (ew).

I feel like I need to get back into the... rhythm(?)... of things, so this is my transition back into Fanfiction! Hope you enjoyed this!

That reminds me... I'm going to be going to a bunch of colleges for a few days later this week, so I'll probably disappear then too. I'll briefly be in Ohio and Michigan if anyone is interested... (HINT HINT WINK WINK. haha, jk)

-Alice xxx