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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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chapter 3: operation f.i.v.e.

five’s

insight

very

entertaining

Smoke wafted in front of her in long, undulating lines. Abby, seated in the shadow of her rusty red pickup, concentrated of blowing out the trail of marijuana smoke as slowly as possible, letting it almost drift out of her slightly pursed lips. As Frenchie of Grease would have expressed it, the Parisian-born agent smoked ‘French-style,’ savoring the flavor as a true connoisseur. After all, Abby saved the best she received for her personal stash, so this stuff deserved every second of the savoring. In this dazed, sensory overload, the word ‘Five!’ screeched loudly into her ear by a chipper Australian was the last thing she saw coming. Choking on the smoke she held in her mouth, burning her throat a bit in the process, she snapped towards Four. “And what the HELL,” She panted, trying to catch her breath, “Was that shit for? What’d Numbuh Five do to you lately?”

“Nothin.’ The opportunity was there.” Wallabee offered gravely before smirking, “And the opportunity was hilarious.”

Five scowled. “Boy, I hope for your sake you did not ruin Five’s Gandalf moment for some of your typical stupid shit.”

“No. This stupid shit was completely atypical.”

Five ground out her now wasted joint on the rim of her wheels, considering their rusty, dilapidated state and wondering if MTV’s Pimp My Ride took calls from desperate Juniors in Northern California. If this baby got some TLC, maybe some undercarriage lights, some Grade-A fuzzy dice, maybe she wouldn’t feel such disgust for it. Then again, suspension that didn’t make trips to the grocery store feel like a do-it-yourself home roller coaster rides might also go a long way. Maybe a paint job?

As she mulled over ways and means, high as a kite, she was temporarily brought down by the look in Four’s eyes. Previously, her typical practicality had kept her from broaching on what she was sure was the most dangerous subject one could EVER bring up with Four. However, being Five, high, and irritated with the whole damn thing, she charged at the topic.

“Four, stop broodin’ about him. It makes Numbah Five uncomfortable just bein’ around this kinda anxiety, damn near ruins her trip.”

He swiveled around at her, his look one of utmost horror. “What,” he swallowed thickly, “are you talking about?”

Five lifted the brim of her cap to give him an appraising look, raising an eyebrow drowsily as she did so. “I know you ain’t stupid. I’m lettin’ you know that I know.” She slung an arm around his shoulders. “How long’s it been goin’ on?”

“WHAT? Nothing’s going one- I mean, ON! ON, damn it!” He jumped up, panicked, eye twitching like the dickens. She continued to give him the sympathetic, slightly patronizing look. “You think you’re pretty damn discrete, doncha?”

“Discrete?” He babbled. “There’s nothing to be discrete about. And even if there were, I can’t believe you’d bring it up, and even if you brought it- damn it, there’s nothing, nothing at all!” Grasping wildly, “You’re just high.”

“Bear in mind,” she added mildly, “that Five in no way mentioned what she suspected. She opened the door. You’s the one that walked in that door, shut it, locked it and hung a little ‘home sweet home’ sign on the walls. The walls of your closet, fool. So exactly how long have you been passionately in love with Numbuh One?”

She was down in the grass before she knew what was happening. “Take it back! And don’t ion ion it in public! Jesus, I can’t believe you said his name! What if he heard?!”

She arched an eyebrow. “From the science wing across the school?”

“It. Could. Have. Happened.” Four hissed.

“Then it is true.” Abby smiled, flicking her dreads over the shoulder, leaning up to look at him but remaining on the ground. “You don’t just have a crush. You don’t just want him. You Luuuuurve him.”

His eyes tightened, he started to shake a bit, sliding to the ground beside her, leaning against her heap of a truck. “Stop taunting me,” he hissed. “Christ, Abby, what’d I ever do to you?”

“Hey, hey,” she soothed, “I’m just- look, sorry, aight? I didn’t mean anything by it. I don’t understand why you don’t tell him.”

Four violently shredded dandelions from where he sat, viciously ripping them from the ground, pulling out the roots, decapitating them and shredding the petals. “That’d be a bleeding lark. ‘Hey One? It’s a lovely morning. Fancy tossing out the girl you’ve been with for seven years and taking your devoted, mentally negligent sidekick with an anger problem to bed? Could be fun!’”

Abby rolled her eyes. “You ain’t modest, so don’t fake it.” Beginning to fidget with one of the dandelions spared from Four’s wrath, she twirled it between her fingers slowly. “Besides, the rest of the team wouldn’t exactly cry a river for the loss of Lizzie.” She winced, remembering the boyfriend helmet and countless other occasions of Lizzie-related stupidity they’d endured. “She’s not a bad girl, but she’s- not quite right for him. Hell, she’s not quite right at all. She’s not what he needs.”

“And what do you think that would be?” Four muttered, twirling the remnants of the dandelion carcasas in his hands.

“To start- a damn good wake up call from you. Using those things boys typically wake up to.”

“W

“Damn, you IS stupid. Do I need to hand you an instruction manual, because you being you I would think you’d have been practicing The Pounce with pillows in your boxing ring for a few years now.”

“I NEV-”

“Don’t lie. Five does the laundry.” He winced. “Besides, that boy is in no way straight.”

“I thought he was just British.”

“This is more than British. Man folds his underwear. Unnatural. Plus, you're perfect for him. You’ve spent years becoming perfect. Do you really think there’s anyone in the world who respects, balances, loves and wants to screw One’s brains out more than-”

“Hi guys!” To Four, the sudden arrival of Two’s chipper voice was as the footsteps of DOOM. “Just wanted to stash-”

Dashed against the side of a 1973 Ford pickup, hearing muffled, Hoagie could still perfectly make out Four. “What. Did. You. Hear.” His growl was unholy. His breath was pretty damn unholy as well. Vegemite did not create sweet breath, or, in Four’s case, a sweet personality. If you were what you ate, Vegemite was damn pissed off.

“Mmmm Hmmuh.” Two grunted. Four relaxed the pressure of his hold. “Nothing! What were you talking about? If it’s where Five keeps her stash, trust me, I don’t care, and Four, I didn’t think you did either.”

Five stood up, rolled her eyes, and brushed the grass off her pants. “You mention it so much, I’m damn sure you ARE wantin’ some. It’s like those Puritans- only talked about how nasty sex was so much cause they really wanted some.” The Numbuh Five Theory of American History involved a universal need, he phe part of everyone from Framers to Populists, to smoke up, get some and relax. Recently, this had expanded into the Five Theory of Personal Relations- a Theory she’d dearly love to see in action if the case involved Four and One. Well, not see- Five had no interest in that. Just- know had ored.red.

“Look,” said Two, “I just want to put STEM in your truck so that you can take it back to the Tree House. If I leave it on my Vespa, there goes secrecy.”

“There goes STEM.” Four agreed, letting one go, but not without suspicion in his eyes. “Someone would steal it. It’s shiny. So-” Four fidgeted. “So you really didn’t hear anything?”

“No,” Hoagie said, exasperated as Five took STEM, opened the side door and stowed it safely. The shoe-box sized, oddly curvaceous metallic computer was covered with wires, diodes and ports. There was no view screen- it had to be controlled via Hoagie’s ultra-secure laptop. This security measure made it nigh impossible to steal TND equipment and do damage with it. The physical computer could be stolen, damaged and destroyed, but not controlled or hacked. Hoagie prided himself on this application of his //4d 1337 5k1llz (or mad leet skills, in English). “And if it’s got you this paranoid, I don’t think it’s anything I wanted to hear anyway.” It was usually easier to just avoid Four’s supercharged Rage, and Two attempted to do so whenever possible.

“Now that that’s over, I know you’ve got somethin’ for your home girl Five’s munchies. Lay some jelly donuts on me, my man.”

Four’s paranoia gradually subsided. It gave him a tight little ball of tension in his stomach, knowing thive ive saw through him. He couldn’t help wondering what he’d done- was it his constant repetition of "Numbuh One thinks?” His constant grousing about ‘If Numbuh One were here’ the moment he left the room? His bizarrely obsessive admiration? He mentally beat himself to a pulp. He was transparent. How could One NOT know? Was he just being polite, not saying anything because he knew what it would cost his best friend to have it out in the open? No, no, he was panicking. One didn’t know because One couldn’t know. But even though he didn’t know, it was-

“FUCK.” Four shouted loudly, banging his head into the car door and promptly falling down on his ass, ignored by Hoagie and Abby as they downed their jelly donuts with rapture.
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