DISCLAIMER: I do not own Alex Rider.

A/N: Okay, so does this qualify as crack? Might have something to do with writing this on a sugar high. Does the UK have Hershey's? I only ask because a while ago, one of my favorite Youtubers kind of mentioned that they didn't have Hershey's. And I was like WHATTT. So, yeah.

Of Spies and Chocolate Bars

"I want chocolate!" Alex declared, spinning around in his rolly chair at his desk.

Tom stared at him, head resting on one of Alex's pillows. They were supposed to be doing homework, but ever since they had started an hour ago, they hadn't gotten anything done.

"I want chocolate too," Tom realized, sitting up suddenly, "Should we buy some?"

Alex rubbed his hands together, looking like the villains that he regularly fought off, "I don't want just any chocolate," he told Tom, looking very seriously at his best friend, "I want Hershey's."

"And we can't go down to the supermarket because…?" Tom raised his eyebrows, looking thoroughly confused.

Alex shook his head impatiently, not understanding Tom's suggestion, "Because we have to go to America, and we have to go to the factory!"

Tom stared at him.

Alex rolled his eyes, "I just want chocolate, okay?" He stood and stalked out of his room, calling out, "I'm going to talk to Mrs. Jones!"

It took Alex a few minutes to realize that it probably wasn't a good idea for him to have left Tom alone in his house, but by then, he was already too far away. Another fifteen minutes, and Alex found himself standing in front of Mrs. Jones' office.

He barged in without knocking, "Chocolate."

Mrs. Jones paused, looking from the man in front of her to the desperate teenage boy in the doorway. She probably realized that it was better to deal with the teenager first.

"Come in, Alex," she said pleasantly, "This is James Barker, head of MI5."

"Chocolate," Alex said again, ignoring 'James Barker'. He'd had his fair share of authoritative figures, "Hershey's Chocolate."

"Yes?" Mrs. Jones raised an eyebrow.

"Excuse me!" Barker sounded annoyed, shocked, and angry all at once, "We are in the middle of a meeting!"

Alex turned his glare onto the man, "And I want chocolate."

"Honestly," Barker said, exasperated, "get your child in check, Jones. What's he doing in the bank anyway?"

Alex opened his mouth, clearly about to change the topic back on his chocolate craving.

Mrs. Jones interrupted smoothly, "Agent Rider is one of our most valuable assets."

"And Agent Rider would like some Hershey's chocolate," Alex stressed his name, crossing his arms, "And if you were at the last COBRA meeting, you'd know who I am," he added the last part a little snootily.

Barker's mouth fell open, clearly flabbergasted.

"What's wrong with the ones in the supermarket?" Mrs. Jones questioned, placing her arms onto her desk and leaning forward.

"Too… English," Alex struggled to find the words, before rushing his next words, "I need something American! I need to go to America. Hey, we should go to America together. We could visit the Hershey's factory. Where is it anyway? We could get high on chocolate. Is that possible? Wait, where's Hershey's? I asked that already. And it's in Pennsylvania. Where is Pennsylvania? I'd like to go to Pennsylvania. I've been everywhere but Pennsylvania. That's a fun word – Pennsylvania, Pennsylvania, Pennsylvania, Pennsylvania."

There was a stunned silence.

"I'm going to go," Alex declared abruptly, backing out of the room.

Mrs. Jones stood, understandably concerned for the teenager, "Wait, Alex! Where are you going?"

Alex popped his head back into the room, looking very thoughtful, "You're right. Where am I going?"

He strode across her room, giving Barker a comforting pat on the head as he neared him. Alex carefully inspected the window before nodding and decidedly opening it.

"Wha-"

Pleased to find the Union Flag in the same place as it had been two years ago, Alex swung out of the office, shouting, "For chocolate!"

A/N: Like I said, cracky. Anyway, my school year officially started yesterday. I had a mountain of homework and a test every day this week. So it sucks. And that means I can't write as often. Which means less frequent updates. Which means I'll be sad. Which means you'll be sad. Which means we'll all be sad. Which means that Alex will be sad. Which means Anthony Horowitz will be sad. And this paragraph means that I am already sleep deprived. Which means right after this, I still have to do more homework and studying. Which means I should stop.

-Alice