A/N:

Guys.

I'm sorry I haven't been active.

This is an Angie/Harvey snippet, along with a guest.

Who apologizes.

And promises to update the stories you actually care about.

Please review and let me know if anyone's still alive, who reads me...


"Okay, so the girl who created my character is dead!"

"Good riddance. Wait. If she's dead, then why aren't you?"

"Harvey, is that any way to talk to your best friend?"

"Who said you were my best friend Angie! You're just a creep who likes to touch me a lot!"

"Ewww you made me sound like a pervert! Gross." Angie, better known as number eleventy-nine in moonbase, folded her arms over her chest as she glared over at her self-declared best friend, Harvey MacKenzie, who was currently sitting across from Angie, with a mahogany desk between them. Harvey looked irritated, and he was sunk back in the comfortable moonbase chair, and Angie was livid, with her hand slammed forward on the desk as she spoke passionately.

"But, really! She hasn't updated in so long! I woke up and I got dust in my eyes! It was horrible!"

"I dunno, Angie. Maybe she grew up?"

There was the sound of an offended gasp, before Angie completely uprooted the desk and flipped it backwards, as it crashed into the wall. There was no commotion. Everyone knew Angie was kind of crazy by now.

As to the reason why they still gave her a mustard gun still confused Harvey.

"She couldn't've! No one outgrows me!"

"I sure have."

"What? Since when?"

"Since I first met you! Jeez, you're so annoying!"

Angie frowned. "I'm not annoying! I'm a competent member of the Kida Next Door moonbase! But that's not the matter at hand! I'm saying THE GIRL WHO CREATED ME DIED!"

"That's completely impossible. She's writing this as we speak."

"What? Nut-uh, Harvey, YOU'RE writing this as we speak!"

"H—huh? I can't write this while I'm talking to you!"

Angie suddenly leant back and pressed a hand to her temple, rubbing her forehead. "This is serious, Harvey!"

"Oh, is it? I never would have guessed from you stuuuuuupid, faked man voice."

"I'm not faking anything!" Angie declared, whipping around to stare at her friend, her brown hair bouncing back over her shoulders. Harvey stared at her for a minute, then laughed.

"Ohhh, oops. That's your normal man voice."

"MY VOICE IS NOT NORMALLY MANLY."

"Your voice is deeper than Number 2's's." Harvey said, using his feet to kick his revolving chair back, lounging.

That was when Angie pounced.

She jumped on him, straddling him to the chair. Harvey spluttered something along the lines of 'GET OFFA ME DON'T TOUCH ME', and then the chair, which had only been supported by his foot, slipped backwards and crashed to the floor. Angie was still on top of a flailing, protesting Harvey.

"GET OFFA MEEEE!"

"NO! LISTEN TO ME!" Angie shook Harvey violently. "I can't believe she just abandoned me! We grew up together! All of the times, watching the operations on TV, and having a huge crush on you—"

"What."

"SHUT UP HARVEY THIS ISN'T ABOUT YOU!" Angie snapped, pinching her best friend's cheek. Harvey smacked her hand away, still trying to get out from under her.

For a tiny, midget girl, she sure weighed a lot.

"This is about my creator and how SHE HASN'T UPDATED ANY STORY SHE'S WRITTEN IN MONTHS! YEARS, EVEN! I MEAN, I'VE BEEN GATHERING DUST IN A CORNER!"

"Yes, that's nice, now GET OFFA ME ANGIE!"

Angie thought about it.

"Gimmie a kiss and I will." Angie said, a hint of blush tinting her cheeks, as she looked at her best friend coyly.

"WHAT? Ew, no. Go kiss yourself."

"I can't do that!" Angie said, frowning. "I mean what am I supposed to do, lick my lips?"

"I'll buy you a mirror! NOW GET OFFA ME! STOP TOUCHING ME WITH YOUR LOWER HALF."

Angie shook her head. "Not until I get a kiss! I'll just make myself comfy. And complain."

Angie cleared her throat, oblivious (or just ignoring) of Harvey's discomfort. "Anyway, she hasn't updated A mile in their shoes in months! MONTHS! And don't even get me started on our story, oh my god, I want to kick butt!"

"She can stay away forever, the more she writes me, the more I have to k—"

Suddenly, at that moment, the office door Angie had been stealing flew open. The door slammed into the wall, with a loud bang. In the doorframe, with her arm thrown out to steady the door, was a girl of about 5'2", with messy brown hair strewn into a ponytail, a white sweatshirt, and a pen and pencil in her hands.

She was wearing a ridiculous pair of fake glasses, complete with a fake mustache.

Slowly, she slid her arm off the door. She lifted her hand, and dramatically slid the glasses off her face dramatically, her blue eyes staring down the two kids.

"TEENAGER!" Harvey immediately shouted, trying to reach for his mustard gun. The alarms started to sound, but the teenager quickly wrote something on her paper, and the alarms stopped.

"I'm not just any teenager." She said, replacing her ridiculous glasses onto her face. "It's me. The writer of Angie."

"Wait… y—you actually exist? I thought I was just… I didn't actually think…"

"Yes well congratulations, you broke the fourth wall. I'm still alive. As for the state of my fanfictions…."

The writer made a face, and looked away. The face was only traceable through the grimace. "Yeaaaah sorry. But… I was completely done the last part of the Fanny and Patton fanfiction… until my computer died. Now, I have a new laptop, but I've lacked motivation…"

"Good! Go away, no one wants you here!" Harvey snapped. "Unless you get can Angie the heck OFFA ME!"

The writer frowned at Harvey, holding up her pencil.

"Would you rather I wrote an extremely gory fanfiction in which you were mutilated by some mutts?" She asked. "I do love a good angst. I could get some waterworks out of Angie and Rachel and Nigel, even. A niiiiice funeral for you."

Harvey swallowed. "You wouldn't do that! You don't have the attention span!"

The writer shrugged. "I guess you're right."

Angie gasped. "NO! I BROKE THE FOURTH WAY TO GET YOU HERE! PLEASE PROMISE TO MAKE AN EFFORT!"

"What?" The writer shrugged. "Does anyone even still subscribe to me?"

"Sure! Of course!" Angie exclaimed. "Apologize, for your lack of activity!"

The writer let out a long sigh. "I'm sorry I've been inactive. Really. I have no excuse. I…. just…. I'm a little old, KND never shows on tv anymore… it'd be great if I had friends on skype or MSN who liked writing KND fanfictions."

The writer stood up straighter, with a smile.

"But I remember the feeling of looking on my ipod and seeing a new review…. How happy that made me. I remember giggling at the readers suggestions… I love reading reviews… I read them over and over… and I love writing. I love KND. And I promise I'll try to update, I really will! My first order of business is that I will update the Fanny and Patton story… then, I will try to finish the one about Angie and Harvey! I'd like to rewrite Rachel's Diary, because my writing sucked... but I don't want to push myself. Please, I thank anyone who has put up with me for so long."

Angie wiped a tear from her eye. "FINALLY! OFF THE DUST SHELF!"

"GET. OFFA. ME."

The writer watched Angie and Harvey curiously. "Harvey, I will demonstrate my power as the writer now.

She lifted her pencil and notebook, and wrote.

[i]Harvey lent up and kissed Angie.[/i]

Harvey couldn't control himself; he was leaning up towards Angie. Towards her? Why were his lips pursing?

"NO! NO! PLEASAE STOP I'LL DO ANYTH—"

Harvey didn't have to continue, because Angie kissed him first. His screaming was muffled by Angie.

Satisfied, the writer unclamped her fingers, and walked away, slipping her hood over her head.

Time to get back across the fourth wall, and to write those stories.