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ish	By : teakettleandscone Category: +1 through F > Codename: Kids Next Door Views: 6182 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Codename: Kids Next Door, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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operation a.n.g.s.t

agitated Nigel gets slightly touchy

The door made a slight squeaky sound as Nigel held it open for Lizzie. He winced a bit, wondering if anyone at this sad excuse for the bistro ever oiled the door hinges, much less cleaned off the surfaces they made the sandwiches on. He mentioned this offhand to Lizzie.

“Nigie,” she squeaked, “You’re adorable when you’re irritated. I liker cur cute little pout.” Being demeaned and emasculated was his entire relationship with Lizzie. That was, when he wasn’t saving her from whoever was interested in killing him today. You’d think that after dating an operative since they were both ten, she’d have acquired a bit more evasive skill.

He didn’t expect her to have Five’s savvy, Two’s technological know-how, Four’s… pure and uninhibited RAGE, or even Kuki’s je ne se quoise, but surely she could recognize obvious evil plots and dodge mind controlling rays. Say, one out of every ten times? He shook his head. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Lizzie. He felt very protective of her and fond of her. She was a sweet, if somewhat shrill girl who had been devoted to him despite his constant absences and obsessive devotion to His Work, whatever that was at the moment.

He knew he was a bad boyfriend. He suspected no one but Lizzie would put up with his admitted egotism, distraction and lack of interest in a relationship. If he really admitted it, underneath his constant command demeanor, he wasn’t as comfortable with himself as he had been as a child. The anxiety of adolescence left him somewhat frightened that was wasn’t the unshakable leader he’d always imagined himself to be. The mirror showed a somewhat short, perpetually irate boy with thin hair and a terrible disposition.

“…Nigie, have you been listening?” Startled, he realized he was sitting down, a menu sitting limply in his hands.

“Of course,” he smiled charmingly, “You’re certainly right.” Taking a wild guess, “She is intolerable.”

“Oh Nigie,” she beamed, “you always know what to say.”

“It’s a gift.”

“And don’t you hate the way-” Nigel’s eyes drifted back down to the menu. Roast Beef on Asiago, or French Onion Soup? Why did no one ever put shep’s pie on the menu? Was it so much to ask that occasionally-

Food ordered, Lizzie ran out of steam. “What’s been up with you lately?”

Leaning forward and grabbing her hand, attempting to find the closeness he couldn’t feel, he stared at her a moment to long. She squirmed. “Nigie, why do you stare at me like that? Honestly, sometimes, you’re so weird.”

“Sorry,” he said, leaning back, folding his hands over his chest, rolling his head back and closing his eyes, bringing the water glass to his lips and taking a sip before starting a rant on how Kuki was ‘such a mess lately.’

“I’m starting to worry about her! Or at least, I think I should worry about her. I don’t know, I’ve know her since we were eight, shouldn’t I care more that we only talk in Photography? She’s lost all her old pluck, you know? I think that even if we got a great mission, she wouldn’t snap back. What happened to make her so- different?” He sipped with exasperation, mopping his mouth delicately with a napkin. “And don’t get me started on Four. What crawled up there and died has got to weigh a metric ton.”

Lizzie frowned. “When we’re out together, you always talk about your friends. Don’t you realize it’s a bit rude? I don’t think you realize it, but you wouldn’t know one of my friends if they met you in the street!”

She has friends? he thought, slightly dazed. “Lizzie, I’m sorry if I’ve been insensitive. If your friends are important to you, than I-”

“That’s just it! My friends don’t seem to be anywhere near as much a fixation for me as they are for you! Can’t you ever talk about something else? Us, for example?”

“Are you saying I’m boring?!” He was deeply shocked.

“Nigel, don’t be silly. Every time you’re not talking about friends, your organization, school work or rights issues, you can be a blast! No one’s as clever as you, and you’re kind of witty. Not to mention,” she smiled adoringly, “adorable.”

“So it’s just when I talk about anything important to me that you get bored, then?”

Lizzie plunked her spoon down in her clam chowder ferociously, letting the china and metal plink loudly and the soup splatter across the tablecloth, a stray speck landing on Nigel’s sunglasses. With a moue of distaste, like a fastidious cat, he cleaned it off.

“So I’m not in the ‘important’ category?” She thundered as he rubbed, speed increasing with her volume. “Christ, what does one have to do to earn a place on Nigel Uno’s ‘Important List?’ Give you orders or threaten your rights? Call you ‘Number One’? Cause frankly, this faithful girlfriend stchick doesn’t seem to produce results. You care about Abby more than me!”

“Untrue and unjust! Five’s a friend, and my second in command. Most of my life involves her, so I mention her frequently. It doesn’t mean I’m fonder of her than you!”

“Wallabee, then? Why are you still hanging around the same person you did when you were ten, especially when he appears not to have matured since?”

He smacked his hand on the table, but spoke in a quiet hiss. His fear of a scene eclipsing his ire at her irrationality. “So now I can’t talk about my best friend? Bloody Hell, Elizabeth! Why can’t you two get along? He’s perfectly mature! At least he doesn’t have your propensity to hysterics. Is it so much to ask that my girlfriend and best friend don’t consistently try to damage my opinion of each other?”

“You think I’m hysterical? Christ, Wallabee looks at me like he wants to rip my throat out, eat it and save the rest of me for the kangaroos!”

“Which are herbivores,” he said with viciousness. He pulled a twenty out of his wallet and left it on the table, on top of a bill which has been delivered by an undoubtedly nervous waiter without their notice. No one felt very safe around Nigel. It was a bizarre mark of courage that Lizzie felt confidant discussing Relationship Issues with the Patron Saint of the Angry Glare.

“Look,” he began, calmer, “We’re both really tired. I’ve been writing this hellish paper all week, and you’ve been finishing your Art Portfolio for the AP exam. I’m sure we’re just a bit distracted.” He smiled at her, attempting to smooth. Nigel wasn’t unquestioned team leader for nothing. His people skills were excellent, when he bothered to apply them. Lizzie knew this, and found it insulting that he only used it with her on special occasions. Shouldn’t he be, well, more interested and invested in keeping her happy?

“Yes,” She agreed icily, “I’m sure we’re having huge relationship problems because we’re a bit overworked. I’m sure it hasn’t been developing for months as you consistently ignore me and treat me like a ugly cousin you have to entertain and don’t even like instead of like a girlfriend! Gosh Nigel,” she said with saccharine sweetness, “I wish I were as bright as you.”

“I’ll thank you not to insult me. OR my friends. At least I’m trying to be accommodating.”

“That’s you, Uno the Accommodating! That’s the adjective I’d pick! Not tyrannical, dictatorial, or smart-ass. Accommodating is the word I was searching for all along. That’s why you won’t even-”

Nigel put his hand over her mouth, horrified, then grasped her hand and practically dragged her out onto the sidewalk. “Why on earth would you even think of mentioning that in public?”

She wrenched her hand out, massaging it a bit. Nigel typically didn’t realize that he was a bit hardier than most. What he thought was moderate pressure would typically be labeled as bone-crushing. “Please, younk tnk the Counter Guy cares? I think Counter Guy wouldn’t care if we did it right there. He wouldn’t even stop to watch. He makes minimum wage. No one pays him extra to give a damn.” She narrowed her eyes. “Not that you’d fuck me there or anywhere else.”

“Elizabeth! Language!”

“See, you never correct Wallabee!”

“He doesn’t talk about THAT!”

“I think he may.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” His urbane voice turned from prissy to scioucious.

“He is rather obsessed with you.”

“This from the woman with my face covering the surface of her walls. What is it now, 27 separate pictures?”

“Can you blame me for wanting some way to get your attention focused on me?”

One rolled his eyes. “Poor martyred Elizabeth. Anyway, I can’t think of anything more ridiculous than Fou- Wallabee being fixated on me.”

“Then you’re blind. No one would hate me that much with out some proprietary interest.”

“I can think of reasons.” He muttered below her hearing level, immediately feeling terrible for having thought it. “Look, meet me tonight at Le Ball du Shame, say sevenish, and we’ll have a talk. Maybe you’re right and I’ve been a jerk. Maybe I need to reprioritize.” After all, it wasn’t like he was as productive a TND leader as he had been a KND leader. Three wasn’t happy, Five was concerned about him, Four was- Four was something, alright, and Nigel was disturbed by his obvious angst. Four was the dependable one- he saw what needed done, and he did it. Four saw no complications, Four had no moral dilemmas. He was loyal, devoted, tough, smart and fiercely abided by his moral compass. One sometimes wished he could share that undeniable sense of purpose.

Parting from Lizzie and walking back to his next class, he frowned. Why was he wrong to consider his friends’ problems more important than his Lizzie-related angst. They had real issues. Lizzie just had drama. An excess of poorly conceived drama. Like Hallmark made for TV movies. He shuddered at the thought. If he was their leader, and they placed trust in him, then he had to reciprocate by looking after them. If anything, he needed to stop this shilly-shallying and choose which he wanted to focus on- Lizzie or the Team. If he left the TND for her, as she had long wanted him to, he had no doubt the team would collapse and d awa away from the organization The TND would loose a valuable cell, and he would loose most of what made him himself. He was shy about admitting it, the KND and TND had been him life. To have those memories tampered with might destroy his personality. He knew Lizzie didn’t understand what she asked, but it still stung she wanted less than all of him.

But she certainly wanted more than he wanted to give. Crossing the parking lot, he winced at the memory of exactly what she wanted to do next. ‘It.’ Sad, paltry little euphemism. Nigel might have been a bad example of a teenage boy, but he knew what that led to. Inescapable commitments. The outlining of the path he would follow the rest of his life. The death of his childhood. And Lizzie called it bizarre that he didn’t want to loose it?

Wallabee would hate him if he did. He’d know, just looking at him when he walked into the tree house, he’s know, he’d see it, see how dirty and pathetic Nigel felt. They’d all know, and they wouldn’t respect him or love him anymore and then he really would be all alone. Four worshiped him, and he, respecting the boy’s judgment, love himself. And all was right with the world, anything was possible, because if critical, fiery Wallabee believed in him then he must be everything he was cracked up to be. Sitting down in Environmental Science, he drummed his fingers on the desk, distracted. He had to stall Lizzie, somehow.

Pondering his near-obsession with what his team, namely Four, thought of him, he didn’t notice himself slowly slipping down the chair, under the desk, and onto the linoleum. Amidst the muffled giggles at suave, respected Nigel Uno royally embarrassing himself, One, blushing and glaring furiously, picked himself up and buried himself in the textbook until class properly started and the commotion died down. It was a spectacularly bad day to be Numbah One.
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