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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.

Chapter List
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chapter 6: M.I.S.S.I.O.N.

Mad,
Irritated
Students
Survey &
Invade
Official's
Neighborhood

Nigel stared at the ceiling and heard the door creak as it opened just a bit.

"I think you should come see this," Four said from the doorway. His slender frame, in cotton pajama bottoms and a muscle shirt, was silhouetted. His normally short shadow stretched grotesquely in the doorway's elongated light on the floor. The shadow's thin, el Greco style head rested nearly parallel to Nigel's. One was feverishly glad he was nearly invisible in the un-illuminated patch of the room. He was sure he'd have an expression of shame and self-loathing that would have to be explained, and he couldn't explain, not when those bright eyes still hov abo above hwn awn and his dreamed declaration sat hollow, unspoken in his throat. Schooling his features, he stood and grabbed his glasses, throwing his dressing gown on over his pajamas.

"Did Kuki make exploding pancake batter again? The Fire Marshal's still aggravated about last time…" One mumbled as he dragged himself after Four to the main kitchen.

"I wish." Four muttered back. Four's gravity alerted One that something wronwrong- the Australian was rarely this se, es, especially when he first woke up. Wallabee was a disgustingly cheerful morning person, energized by the night's sleep and irritating as hell to those who woke up and just wanted to roll over and sleep some more. Nigel was a solid member of the second group. However, he didn't think he would mind mornings so much if he woke up with Wally to cheer him-- shit. Nine a.m. and whatever this was kicked in. Maybe it was National Beat Nigel Week, and his id had jumped on the bandwagon.

Nigel woke up a bit more at the sound of Kuki's loud sobbing in the kitchen. He ran, passing Four, to see what was causing the commotion. Five was staring at the TV on the counter with disgust. Hoagie looked absolutely befuddled, much like he would have if Cree had showed up and begged for a date, only this expression showcased a total lack of pleasure. Four, when he came in, rubbed in small circles on Three's back. She shook him off rather rudely to look up at a confuOne.One. "I was going to get my license in a week! My mom was going to get me a hybrid bug! In baby blue! Now I won't get behind the wheel of a car until I'm twenty one! Those-- kisama!" She burst into a renewed stream of tears as One winced at the Japanese obscenity.

"Who fucks their mum, now?" Four barged in without a qualm for One's delicacy, seeming to relish Nigel's next little wince. "Tell him all about it, Kuks."

"The DMV," Abby inupteupted, explaining when it was clear that Kuki wasn't going to be able to stop crying long enough to explain. "In their 'wisdom,' has decided that no new licenses will be issued to anyone under twenty one."

"If you're just joining us," A pretty Chinese American woman announced, brushing back a strand of hair and trying too hard to look professional, "In a landmark decision, the county's DMV has taken the state legislature's mandate that each district determine it's own regulations about licensing conditions to a revolutionary new level. In response to high teen accident rates, irresponsible behavior on the part of minors and a driving while under the influence conviction rate higher than the national average, the director of the local DMV has decided to take a stand against irresponsibility and for safety."

The screen flashed to a prerecorded news conference with said Director. The man's old ioneioned seersucker suit clung unpleasantly in the Can Francisco heat and humidity to his fat little body. His face was not one that inspired confidence. It had a snotty little smidgeon of an upturned nose with unpleasantly large nostrils, providing ample view of a rich harvest of nasal hair. He also sported a sad, finely kept little pencil moustache, apparently unaware that Hitler had ruined them for everyone sometime back.

"The notable lack of responsibility exhibited by teenage drivers denotes that they are unr for for the privilege of driving," He spoke in a tone that was nearly a sneer. "In addition to not allowing teens to invade the roads, we have worked in collaboration with the local authorities and the state patrolmen to develop a sterner penal code for teen offenders of driving laws. Governor Schwarzenegger has been kind enough to allocate a greater percentage of the budget to law enforcement. Using these funds, we plan to increase the frequency and intensity of police surveillance on the streets. Though it is impossible to retroactively cancel the licenses already issued to teenagers, we'll do our best to catch them in the act."

"Shocked and appalled, eh mate?" Four asked, already knowing the an.
.

"This burns AND stings." One agreed. "Why would they do anything so blatantly stupid?" He paused a moment, "Wait, forgot, they adu adults."

"Adults who voted in Schwarzenegger," Abby muttered. "After that, we should expect som'thin' this stupid. Surprised it ain't happened before now."

"What are we waiting for?" Two yelled, already grabbing his jacket and throwing it on over his Rocky and Bullwinkle pajamas. "I'm not sitting around and letting them steal my wheels!"

"You have wings if they do," One pointed out, "But you're right. There's not a moment to loose. This is it, guys, the mission we've been waiting on for weeks! A true chance to fight injustice!" One practically began salivating. His eyes shone with glee. "Teens Next Door- CLOTHE YOURSELVES!"

They rushed to carry out his order. A few minutes later, Four hopped into the garage, struggling to pull his hoodie down over his black t-shirt and shove his remaining foot into a sneaker simultaneously. One, always a speedy ser ser due to how little primping he did (it's hard to primp with no hair), waited for him and the other in the shuttle.

"About last night," Four began, attempting to apologize for being intrusive and intentionally nasty about Lizzie.

"No time!" One said cheerfully, running through the preflight checklist. "Besides, already forgotten." He wanted to avoid the entire question. Four's behavior was rude, but One's thoughts were so far beyond acceptablet hit his guilt far overpowered his anger with his friend.

"Right," Four smiled amicably, slipping behind the weapons console.

Within a minute, the team was assembled. The ride to the DMV was lightening-quick. Disembarking from the shuttle, the team rushed the doors.

Unlocking the safety on his ray gun as he ran, Nigel watched with pride as the team covered the entrance. "Teens Next Door," he began with an enthusiasm he rapidly lost as he looked around, "Battle stations?" he finished in a quiet mutter.

Queues of ungodly size stretched from the long line of front desk. Like the tentacles of a gigantic bureaucratic octopthe the lines coiled and moved with incredible slowness.

"It's awful," Four muttered, glancing around with terror in his eyes. Coming from a nation of outlaws and growing up in the middle of the outback, nothing scared him more than organized government- especially the prospect of standing in line, just WAITING for it to get you! "Like an undercooked waffle. It's mad, so bad, makes me sad- makes-"

"Get a hold of yourself Four!" One shook him, snapping him out of the rhyming fit he succumbed to when especially disturbed. "They can't overcome the TND. We'll wait in their line. Oh, we'll wait! And when we're done waiting, they'll pay for their obstruction of my civil liberties. They'll pay for disturbing my Saturday morning. They'll ALL PAY!"

"Can't we just call in the ACLU?" Four asked as One dragged him closer, closer to the dreaded line. He attempted to grab the rope that partitioned the lines as he passed it, hoping to save himself by any means necessary, but just ended up dragging it after him.

One's superior strength won out, and the team, complete with Wally, joined the human mass. To quell Four's continued squirming; One hit him where it hurt. "Is Wallabee Beatles letting the ACLU fight his battles when there's ass just asking to be kicked? Is Wallabee such a coward he wants appeals court to punish the unrighteous?" This infuriated Four. His jaw dropped, and he abruptly about faced, glaring at the bodies ahead of him, the picture of contained rage.

"I'll wait." Wallabee muttered. "I'll be the best waiter ever, I will. And then I'll claw out the guts of the line-partitioning bastards. With my teeth."

One beamed. "That's the spirit, Four!"

And so they waited.

It was an hour and a half later when Numbah Five announced she was ashamed of their periodical selection. "Where be a sistah's Week? Where be her Cosmo, her Weekly World News? Hell, where be her High Times?"

"Popular Science would be appreciated," Two agreed. "Or Discovery. This National Geographic is older than my dad!"

Three, who had been playing cat's cradle with her shoelace, looked up. "I'm bored, too" she announced.

"Numbah One, why don't we just go to the front? We's gonna kick their asses anyway. Numbah Five's gettin' a leg cramp here."

One gritted his teeth. "All these people in line have to suffer the nonsense of this agency as well, Team. It's like butting to the front of a line of starving people waiting for bread- immoral, cruel and-"

"Kinda funny?" Four interrupted with a bored tone. He was still starring in front of him, determined to prove to One his courage was more than just talk. This was a personal fight- him and the line. Loyalty to One was winning out over his desire to break and shoot his way to the front- but only just.

One shot him a look, which then soed. ed. "Thank you for your patience, Four. I know this goes against your instincts."

"Yeah, yeah," Four grunted, eyes boring holes in the back of the man in front of him.

After another half an hour, the team finally reached the counter. An aged woman with a beehive failed to acknowledge their presence. "We're here," Nigel began, only to be cut off.

"Three forms of ID." She grunted, aimlessly shuffling papers.

"Three? But why? And isn't three a bit excessive?" Nigel asked, confused. Abigail shuffled through her documents. "Here's my birth certificate." She pushed it under the woman's nose. The woman sniffed. "This isn't in English, dearie. You'll have to get it translated and notarized." Five gaped.

"Give me permission, One," Four grunted. He was staring at the woman with an expression of intense hate.

"I think you're right. We've played this game long enough. Teens Next Door!" They snapped to attention. "BATTLE STATIONS!" Four, suddenly releasing hours of suppressed rage, let out a scream and threw himself over the partition that separated the Civil Servant from the civilians. The carnage of scattered papers and flying staplers was a terrific sight. Following his lead, the team stormed the partition, cast themselves over it, and took the trench. Knocking out the disaffected office workers in the first line of defense, they roared on into the belly of the beast, onwards towards the office of The Damned Director.
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- 7
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