I was briefly known as RandomlyRandom4Ever! I wrote Sleep Grabber! (Look at me, acting like I actually had fans.)

A/N: This is a birthday present for my best friend AllCaileyGirl. I owe her one for being so amazing. Happy Birthday! :)

Now, I've been wanting to do a Nigel/Rachel story for a while, and I'm glad I finally got around to it. One thing, though: It's always irked me when people say Number or Numah or Numbeh instead of Numbuh in KND stories. So, just for a heads up, I'm going to use Number, but trust me, it'll make sense in the end. :)

Title: Unfamiliar

Pairing(s)/Character(s): Rachel/Nigel, slight Fanny/Patton, barely any Kuki/Wally, Abby, Hoagie

Genre: Romance/Hurt/Comfort

Rating: K+

Word Count: 7,700+

Source of Idea: I felt fluffy and I was thinking about how KND members deal with decommisioning and... Nigel and Rachel and... this happened. :P

Disclaimer: Do not own. That's all I got for today. :B


Unfamiliar
by
TannaKotaZ03

The only reason they're here is because Kuki suggested that they all do something together as a team. She's been having a lot of these—suggestions, that is—lately, involving the group of friends spending more time together. It's not like anyone can really blame her, though. After all, it is 2012.

2012—the year that the majority of what's left of the current generation of the Kids Next Door turn thirteen. Including Sector V.

It's quite devastating to think about—losing memories of your life for every second you were an operative in the organization. Outside lives included. That means no previous birthdays, no holidays, no trips with your family. A complete blank. A new beginning. Still, the toughest thing by far is losing the friends you've bonded with since you were an age as young as seven. Most hearts recieve multiple stabs, inflicting nostalgic pain every time one dwells on it. So, the simple solution?

You don't.

You simply don't let yourself think about it. Just spend as much time with your friends and teammates as possible, then cry about it when decommisioning day comes. It's the safest way to not drive yourself crazy.

Today's location of family bonding is the local park. Because of recent bad weather consisting of strong winds and heavy snowfall, everyone agreed it would most likely be deserted, granting them with more privacy. The day was fairly nice, however. No snow was falling, the sky was a cloudless blue, and with only a slight breeze coming in from the west, it was actually an ideal day for the park. Still, no parents or siblings flocked to the area with eager children and toddlers. Probably thought it best to be safe than sorry in case another snow storm picked up.

Anyway.

On a day so calm and in an area so still with peace, Patton and Fanny definately stick out like two sore thumbs screaming at each other at the edge of the playground, deeply involved in an argument that Rachel was sure had started when Patton had said something about the grass. (Which was weird because the grass is currently buried under about a foot of snow.) Abby and Hoagie are sitting together a few yards away, entertaining themselves with trying to construct pyramids out of snowballs. Occasionally they glance up at the fueding pair, at each other, and then simply turn their attention back to their work.

The thing is, it's no mystery about those two. They bury their feelings toward one another under multiple cloaks of meaningless words and attitudes. The time for them to say whatever needs to be said in dwindling, and of course they know that. You can see in their eyes and hear in their words that they're not nearly as full-hearted with their disputes as they used to be—some of the fire is gone. Their minds and hearts are just too clogged by too many emotions at the time. Understandable. Still, it's not like they'll get a second chance. Opportunity's pounding.

Kuki and Wally are gently rocking back and forth over on the swingset, watching the spat, their fingers enlaced between them. Occasionally, Wally would lean over and whisper in Kuki's ear, then she would giggle and whisper something back. At least they had the courage to come clean to each other.

Rachel, who had been walking laps around the park's bike trail reminicing on her years spent in the KND (she knows she's not supposed to do that, but she couldn't help it!), comes to a stop next to a bench where Nigel is busily tapping away on what looks to be an organizer mixed with a pager mixed with an iPhone. Another KND creation.

"Kinda looks like glitter, doesn't it?"

Nigel, who obviously didn't hear any approaching footsteps (if he did, he didn't show any indication of it), snaps his head up and turns to see his best friend standing before him, hands in her coat pockets, patiently waiting for an answer.

He manages a light smile before he realizes he didn't catch a word of the question.

"...What?" he asks dumbly, the faint smile dropping into a confused downward curve.

Exhaling a laugh, Rachel repeats, "The snow. With the sun shining on it, it kind of looks like glitter, right? Especially when you move."

"Uhm..."

"Random, I know." She sighs, plopping down next to him. "I think I'm just trying to clear my mind with small talk."

It takes less than a second for Nigel to register what she's talking about, why she needs to clear her head. Being the leader of an organization so many preteens, including herself, are about to get thrown out of can't be easy on her.

Feeling sympathy but not really knowing what to say, he finally decides on taking the small talk route she suggested earlier.

"Yeah, it definately resembles glitter." He smiles when he notices the upward twitch of her lips and keeps going. "Oh, but not the really tiny kind. It's definately more like the larger, flaky kind. You know, I hear that no two flakes are the same? That makes it even better, because no two snowflakes are either!"

Rachel laughs because the boy next to her just seems way too excited about such a stupid topic like this. Still, she gives him a grateful smile that he can tell is her way of thanking him without having to talk.

Her eyes then flicker down to the device in his lap and she immediately demands, "What's that? Why are you working, Nigel?"

"I'm not," he defends, protectively tilting the object away.

"Nice try, I saw the KND symbol, Uno." She crosses her arms and pouts angrily at him, but when he starts laughing at what she's guessing is her expression, her resolve melts. Along with her well-practiced commander tone. "C'mon, I thought we agreed this was a free day," she says.

"We did! It is. Look, I swear I was just talking with Number Ten about how much our relationship change might confuse our families because... you know, we didn't start talking again until after we met up in the Kids Next Door. But, if you don't even want me to do that, I won't."

Rachel watches as he types a few words into the keyboard, waits a few seconds for a response, then shuts it down, stashing it in his jeans pocket and grinning at her.

She shakes her head good-naturedly and murmurs, "Thank you," as she turns to look out onto the park. Moments later, she finds herself transfixed on the heated argument that still rages on between two of her other close friends. Casting a side glance at Nigel, she can tell he's watching too, even if she can't see his eyes behind those dark glasses. She's biting her lip when she asks, "You're regretting inviting me, aren't you?"

She may not be able to see his eyes, but she notices his eyebrows shoot up before he turns to her.

"What? Why would I be regretting that? You had to come—you're my best friend," he says honestly.

She laughs once before declaring, "Yeah. Your best friend who invited Oil and Water over there and just like that, this whole "peaceful" day off is ruined for everyone."

Nigel shrugs once and clasps his hands together, positioning his elbows on his knees.

"It's not ruined. They're actually kind of entertaining," he says, then nods his head in the general direction of the Irish redhead. "My money's on Fanny."

Rachel kind of scoffs and makes a face that's a mix between annoyance and sadness.

"It's not entertaining. It's actually kind of—of... erm...," she halts, searching for the correct word to use. "...sad," she decides with a slump of her shoulders as she stares at the two with large remorseful brown eyes. Suddenly, she inhales quickly and her lips press into a line. She stands and says, "C'mon. We're taking a walk."

Nigel looks startled at the sudden suggestion. Well, command, more like it.

"What? Now? Why?"

Rachel huffs, crossing her arms over her stomach and tucking them into her sides, suddenly looking far more cold and far less patient.

"Because..." she draws out the word, looking anywhere but at him. He knows she probably can't think of a good excuse off the top of her head, and that's weird because that's usually all she does back at Moonbase. Quick thinking, that is. "I..." she sighs heavily. "I don't know. I just wanna go somewhere. Let's go get a hot chocolate or something."

He looks at her. She looks at him.

"As your Supreme Leader, I order you to agree."

This time Nigel laughs, and so does she because, yeah, that sounded pretty ridiculous and they both know it. But hey, she is the boss of him even if they're not on duty. And who is he to refuse an order no matter what time of day it is? Besides, some time alone with her doesn't sound all that bad either.

He rises and Rachel exhales in something like relief and smiles for what feels like the thousandth time today. She can't say it's unusual—not around Nigel.

... ...

The snow-covered sidewalk is surprisingly lively considering how barren the area around the park is. Of course, this is probably just a reminder that people still have jobs to go to. The pair crunches along, expertly avoiding collision with the people they share the narrow slab of concrete with, Rachel a few feet in front of Nigel. They walk for about a half-mile when Nigel finally speaks up.

"So, where did you say we were going, again, Rach?" he asks over the small hum of the people around them.

Rachel looks over her shoulder at him, her curtain of blonde hair swishing around her face. Her cheeks are rosy, thanks to the bite of the cold wind.

"I told you," she says cheerily, all signs of stress gone. She suddenly stops in front of a building and Nigel has to fight not to crash into her, unfortunately the hard-packed snow makes it hard to gain much traction. Fortunately, they only sort of bump hips (the impact would've been a lot worse had he not turned at the last second). Still, Rachel has to grab hold of his arms in order to steady herself and when he looks up with an apologetic glance, she's still smiling. She points to the store entrance and says, "Best hot chocolate in town," before dragging him in.

Nigel actually kind of sighs when they enter the small cafe. It's so much more warm and inviting than the chilly bitterness of the outside. The wooden floors are a nice mahogany color, the simple lights hanging overhead give off a soft yellow glow, and the smell of coffee, hot chocolate, and donuts drifting in from the kitchen behind the counter is overwhelming. He's so transfixed with taking everything in, that when he looks over to speak to Rachel, he sees she's already standing in line, undoing the buttons on her long coat as she waits. He walks over and touches her arm.

She looks up and smirks proudly. "Pretty snazy, huh?"

"Well, snazy isn't the word I'd use to describe it, but it's definately nice," he tells her. "I thought you were joking about where we were going. That you just said something to get away from the park."

Rachel again looks up from working on her coat to regard him with a serious expression.

"I never joke about hot chocolate," she says in a tone that should probably scare him, but he's been around so much crazy in his childhood that the most it does is worry him slightly. It's okay, though, because the serious look is gone as soon as it came, washed away by twinkling chocolate eyes and perfectly white teeth. "Just kidding. But I do really like it."

The reach the front counter where a tall, lanky teenage boy of no older than seventeen is staring at them with narrowed pale green eyes. Two years ago, a gesture like this, especially coming from anyone over twelve years old, would demand immediate hostilaty from Nigel or Rachel (or any KND member really, they were just trained to operate like that.) But today, the pair just ignores the guy and his rudeness. No use in wasting any energy on him.

(Not like they couldn't, though. There are just so many ways you can insult that taky gold and green polo shirt and khakis.)

"Two hot chocolates, please," Rachel requests politely, sliding a five dollor bill onto the surface of the counter.

The boy looks at the bill like it might bite him and never let go if he touches it. So, instead of accepting it, he frowns at the two and asks, "How old are you kids?"

Nigel immediately senses the pain that the question might cause Rachel, and when he looks over to confirm or deny the fact, he finds that he's right. She's biting her lip hard and obviously trying not to cry, but her eyes are shining and he thinks that if she tries to supply an answer, she'll just burst out in tears.

He knows this guy really couldn't have had any idea how sensitive a question like that is to them, but he can't help feeling angry at him anyway.

"We're twelve, sir," he responds, holding onto his patience. When he sees the boy's frown deepen, he quickly adds, "Turning thirteen in about a week and a half," to try and avoid any further interrogation.

He hears Rachel make a sound beside him and instantly feels horrible for it.

The cashier (or whatever this guy is) still doesn't look convinced.

"Look, shouldn't you kids have an adult with you or something?" he asks coldly and Nigel grits his teeth.

"Why? It's not like we're purchasing alcohol or anything. We're not even getting coffee, for crying out loud! It's just hot chocolate," he says, unable to keep the edge from his voice. "Milk and chocolate," he adds, throwing in a condescending look for good measure.

This seemed to only further ignite the boy's attitude.

"I don't think I like your tone, kid."

Nigel bristles. "Well, I don't like your—"

"Oh, my God, Mike! Stop torturing these kids, already!" A brunette girl who looks about the same age as Mike (apparently, this guy's name) comes to stand next to him with two steaming cups in her hands, glaring coldly at him.

Mike matches her glare with one of his own.

"Look, Stella, it's not my fault that the kid's—"

"Get over it, already, will you?" Stella interrupts with finality. She shoos him away with a muttered, "I swear, you're the most embarrasing brother ever," as he shoots one last glare at Nigel and retreats to the kitchen, grumbling to himself. Stella places the two cups on the counter before them and swipes the money up and into the cash register. "Sorry guys," she apologizes and hands the change to Rachel, not noticing her upset state. "He's been in a crappy mood all day. I think his girlfriend just dumped him. So, nothing personal."

"Thank you," Nigel says gratefully, grabbing both cups and gently handing one to Rachel, who accepts it and stares at the contents weakly. He definately has to talk to her once they got outside. He looks back up at Stella and waves, thinking that the green and gold uniform looks a lot better on her. "Thanks again!"

"No problem! And seriously, forget about Mike, he's an idiot. Probably just jealous that him and his ex didn't have a relationship as good as the two of yours," she winks and then walks to the end of the counter to attend to a customer who has just rung a silver bell.

Rachel hears the comment and really hopes that the heat she feels on her cheeks is because she's basically buried her head in her cup of hot chocolate. She hopes that's what Nigel thinks, too, when she looks up and him and gestures to a nearby booth.

"Wanna take a seat?" she asks lightly.

"Actually, I was thinkin' we could go outside..." he suggests, expecting her to protest. "Into the fresh air."

Rachel nods in agreement, surprising him.

"Yeah, it is starting to feel a little claustrophobic in here." She starts for the door and turns with a wry smile when she reaches the handle. "Now I have to completely rebutton my coat. Thanks a lot."

... ...

They're sitting on a bench they found about a block away from the cafe, silently downing their drinks, watching people walk by, consumed by their own thoughts. Rachel knows Nigel wants to start a conversation (asking if she's alright, if she wants to talk about anything), but she can tell he doesn't want to make things worse. And she can't help but smile a little at the thought because that's, like, impossible for him to do. Still, it's sweet of him to carefully consider his words around her, but she kind of can't stand the silence anymore, so she figures she'll just start talking and see where it goes from there.

The only problem is she doesn't have the slightest idea what to say. And she doesn't want to say anything stupid!

(Huh, maybe this is why it's important to choose words carefully.)

She glances over at him and it's like the words just tumble out of her mouth without control. "You know, you really don't need sunscreen when it's this cold out."

Nigel seems so shocked by the sudden outburst, looking at her like it's the abolute last thing he expected her to say. And, yeah, it probably is. But then again, he couldn't see himself right now.

She giggles and reaches forward, brushing his nose with her index finger and pulling back so that he can see the whipped cream. He glares playfully and uses his jacket sleeve to wipe the rest of it off as she laughs.

"Yes, yes, it's very funny," he says, a smirk already forming on his lips. "But, I for one, find it hilarious that you have an interest in growing a mustache."

Well, that was enough to get her to shut up.

"What?" Her fingers fly up to her lips to find the space above them wet and slightly warm. She pulls her hand back and, sure enough, the tips are tented brown. She rolls her eyes and swipes her sleeve across her upper lip. "Ha, ha, remind me to laugh when it's actually funny."

The playful aura surrounding them begins to die down and Nigel stares at her intently. You can only avoid a problem for so long.

"All humor aside, are you alright?" he asks sincerely.

Rachel sighs lightly and ducks her head, running her hands over her jeans as if to warm them up.

"It depends on what your definition of 'alright' is," she says retorically. Nigel reaches over and begins rubbing soothing circles on her back and she kind of hates him for it because he knows it's one of the most effective ways to calm her down and get her to open up. She sits up a little straighter, lacing and unlacing her fingers, and says, "No... no, not really. It sucks."

He doesn't have a problem with how vague she's being because he knows exactly what she means. And it does suck. He keeps the circular motion going, warming her through her jacket and waits for her to continue. Eventually, she does.

"I can see how sad everyone is, Nigel. They hate it. And so do I. I'd never really thought about it back when we were ten because it never really seemed like a big deal. The only time it was was with Number Nine, but after that... I don't know." She pauses to swallow thickly, willing the tears to stay down for the second time in the past half-hour. "And I keep thinking that everyone's, like... watching me... like they're waiting for me to make this not happen. But I don't know what to do! I mean, the only way I could help would be to..." She looks up at him with watery eyes. "Should I be able to do something?" she whispers.

He gives a slight shrug and sighs, understanding her confusion, but at the same time not knowing what it's like to be in her position.

"Well, I know that you know you have the power to change the rules, being the leader and all," he says, keeping his eyes trained on her. "But I also know that you know as leader, that wouldn't be the right thing to do."

Rachel sucks on her bottom lip and lets his words sink in. She can tell that he's watching her intently, looking into her eyes whenever he can and seeing if he can decipher her thoughts. She wishes she could do the same, but every time she tries, she's just met with the inpenetrable darkness of his sunglasses.

(Which, by the way, he really has no excuse for wearing right now. The sun's not even out!)

Anyway, she hates not being able to see his eyes because it feels like she's shut off from some part of him, and it's not like he can say the same with her.

"Well, it's not like I'd be able to live with myself if I did, so I think that's out of the question anyway," she says, settling back into the bench when Nigel pulls back his arm. "I wouldn't wanna stoop to changing our traditions."

A nostalgic smile plays at Nigel's lips as he recognizes her choice in words.

"Yeah, we wouldn't want that," he says, leaning back as well, considering his next words carefully. "Besides, maybe this is what's... best for everyone." He sees her eyes widen even if she doesn't turn to him. "Let's be serious here," he continues. "It's not like any of us are exactly kids anymore. We don't really hold the same belief in the Kids Next Door as we did. When we were back at the park, did you notice I said Number?"

Rachel nods.

"Yeah, so did I. And I also said Supreme, not Soopreme." She looks over and thinks that the look of understanding she sees on Nigel's face mirrors her own. "And the word importatic sounds so ridiculous now."

They sit there for a few minutes, dwelling in their newfound realization that, truthfully, they didn't belong in the KND anymore. It's not exactly an easy peace of information to swallow, but it does ease their minds a little. Now they have an explanation as to why everything has been so conflicting.

"You know, there's always the famous escape attempt," Nigel speaks up, and Rachel's shocked before she notices the cheesy grin he wears and knows that now he's just poking fun. She kind of gives a little snort-laugh into her hand that would embarrass her if it was anyone other than him seated beside her.

"Yeah, right! I have the stamina of a sloth. In fact, I'd probably trip over something before they even got the chance to start shooting at me!"

Nigel shrugs.

"Yeah," He stops to laugh at her expression of mock-shock. "But you're a dancer. That's gotta count for some stamina points, right?"

"Yes, when it comes to dancing. Not when it comes to outrunning trained kids with weapons," she corrects. "Besides, it's not like I have the intellect on how to evade them anyway. You'd have to at least be a field operative to have even a slight chance, and we both know that I'm not."

"I seem to recall you doing alright in our fight against Father who is one of the most dangerous villains we've ever faced," he replies. Rachel shrugs and downs the rest of her drink before tossing it over his shoulder and into the trashcan approximately twelve feet from them. "You see? You have great aim, too," he compliments. "All you'd need to do is get your hands on something that shoots and you'd be unstoppable."

"Thanks Nigel, but I don't think there are many fights you could win by launching cups into trashcans."

She looks up at the sky as he tosses his cup too. She can't find a break in the dark, fluffy clouds and she can feel the temperature dropping with every passing second. It's definately about to snow again.

"Come on, we should be getting back to the others," she hears Nigel say, like he was reading her thoughts.

She nods numbly and stands to begin walking back in the direction they came. When they're about halfway back to the park, Rachel grabs his arm and pulls him to a stop in front of a boutique.

She's strangely enthralled by a pink boa on a mannequin posing in the window when she asks, "Do you think you're going to remember me?" and then wants to repeatedly hit herself because of how stupid it sounds out loud.

Nigel doesn't seem caught off guard or anything as he turns to fully face her.

"Of course I will—"

"But how?" she kind of shrieks and is ashamed by how noticeably her voice cracks. Still, the tears never came. "Because as much as I want to, I know I'm not going to remember you! I'm not going to remember anybody I met here."

Nigel takes her hand in his and runs his thumb over her knuckles until she's ready to look up at him again.

When she does, he says, "I could never forget you, Rachel, because you're just that amazing."

He says it so sincerely and so meaningfully that she's honestly shocked into complete silence. He's never said anything like that about her before, at least not that she's heard, and it does something that feels like warming her heart. It also only adds to her depression because now she'll have that to think about right before she gets decommisioned as well. She's trying to clear her mind by blocking out all of the confusing thoughts she's having, but the one she just can't seem to ignore is how she's cursing her cheeks for being so inflamed when she doesn't have any hot chocolate to stuff her face in.

Then, without warning or any sort of indication whatsoever, she's leaning in.

Now, there are so many ways this situation could go wrong (she could lose her balence, she could turn her head the wrong way... really, the possibilities are endless), and only one way it could go right. Her heart's hammering in her chest and she'd be lying if she'd said it wasn't painful. She'd also be lying if she'd said she didn't feel like she would faint from overwhelming emotion when she notices Nigel moving forward as well.

She's freaking out.

Nigel, on the other hand, is completely (strangely) calm. Sure, he worries about the outcomes as much as (okay, not nearly as much as) she does, but he's not really thinking about anything other than her at the moment, and that's enough to keep him calm. She's always been the more levelheaded of the two and even now, with her inwardly freaking, this is the most content he's been all month. All of his senses seem dampened except for the sense of touch and sight. He can still feel the soft skin of her hand in his, and her eyes, so big and brown and innocent, well as long as he's staring into them, he doesn't think he could stop drawing nearer even if he wanted to.

And he so doesn't want to.

There are people still passing by, the occasional few shooting the pair dirty looks, probably thinking that they're just another pair of 'teens in love'. But snow has started to fall once again, coating them in a thin white blanket, and the aroma of romance is so thick that they really couldn't care less. Besides, these people have got it wrong. They're not teenagers—not yet.

He's always had a few inches on her, so he finds it adorable when she rises onto her tiptoes and kind of stays there, hovering a few inches from his lips, slightly confused and unsure. Probably waiting to see if he'll regect her.

Of course he would never dream of it. And if she can't see that by their position, he figures he'll help her out.

He leans forward and closes the space between them, capturing her lips with his. She emits this sort of squeak in the back of her throat that he loves. Feeling bolder, she tilts her head to the side and deepens the lip lock, hoping that she wouldn't make some sort of massive mistake with the action. (It's not like she's exactly experienced in this area.) Apparently she didn't, though, because Nigel reacts by pressing into her, flushing warmth throughout her entire body.

She sighs and smiles into his lips, definately feeling happier than she has in the last few months. Which is why she almost regrets what she does next.

She doesn't really know what makes her reach up so suddenly and yank off his sunglasses before either of them really knows what happening. She also doesn't know why Nigel's been keeping such beautiful blue eyes hidden from the world, or why, in the split second that blue connected with brown, he was already snatching them back and placing them on his face.

She doesn't know why she just ruined her first kiss with the guy that she really, really likes.

They stand there for a few awkward moments as the reality they had escaped for a few seconds rushes back to them and drains away all the warmth they were feeling because of each other, like being doused by a bucket of ice water.

After what seems like an agonizingly long time, Nigel speaks, his voice stoic and his face expressionless; void of any emotion.

"We really should be getting back."

And without waiting for a response or any indication she had heard him, he turns and begins walking down the sidewalk.

And Rachel waits. She waits until he's both out of sight and out of hearing distance before she lets the tears, that have been coming and going all night but never once spilled onto her cheeks, start to flow. Before she knows it, she's sobbing, and the only reason she decides to move is because she doesn't want her face to freeze out here.

... ...

She had stopped crying a couple of minutes ago, but she still kept her eyes trained on the sidewalk because she really doesn't feel like looking at anyone or anything right now. She didn't even see him until she almost crashed into him (she hates the sense of deja vou she feels) at the park's front gate.

"Why are you standing out here?" she asks, and she can tell he knows she's been crying and is grateful when he doesn't bring it up.

"I just didn't want everyone asking all sorts of questions," he says, shrugging and stuffing his hands in his jeans pockets and averting his gaze. At least he's got some sense of emotion back. It almost makes it ironic that now she's the one wearing the neutral-face mask.

"Alright then."

She walks past him and pushes open the large black ivory gate, entering the park once again. Since the group originally entered the park by hopping the fence behind the bike trail (Hoagie feels that front entrances are overrated), Rachel has to climb a small hill and round the trunk of a huge oak tree before she can see anyone.

She can't hear Fanny or Patton arguing anymore, so she figures that's a good sign. The two probably wore themselves out or something. But, seeing how highly unlikely that is considering their high amounts of willpower, she's willing to bet someone had to seperate them. So when she appears around the large base of the trunk and finds them locked in an embrace that she almost trips upon seeing, no one can really blame her for being flabbergasted.

Patton has his arms wound tightly around her waist, holding her close to him (seriously, you couldn't get a piece of paper between them if you tried) and kissing her fully on the lips. And Fanny, well you can't exactly say she wasn't returning the favor fullheartedly. She has one arm wrapped lazily around his neck while her free hand thoughtlessly plays in his thick, dark hair.

Rachel braces a hand against the trunk of the tree as she watches the two, not even bothering to make an attempt at closing her mouth. Their kiss is obviously a lot less chaste than hers was with Nigel, but then again, they didn't spend years building tension by arguing. She notices when he sidles up next to her, and her look of pure disbelief is almost comical next to his mildly shocked expression of two raised eyebrows.

(She doesn't understand how he can be so in control of his emotions. The mask she was wearing earlier has been knocked clean off.)

Eventually she regains her composure and continues her walk to the others with Nigel by her side. She doesn't allow the fact that he seemingly waited for her to touch her, because he's probably still worried about the questions the others might ask and facing them alone.

As they draw nearer to their friends, Rachel finds herself wondering why they all seem so... casual.

They had merged together by the swingset, away from the couple making out to their right, and are just sitting there talking. She knows for a fact that Kuki should be squealing and Hoagie should be doing some kind of catcall. But it dawns on her that maybe the situation has reached the point where it's no longer of importance.

So how long have they been kissing?

Rachel spares a glance at the two over her shoulder as she comes to a stop in front of the swings. God, she hopes that they remember to breathe.

When she turns back to the other four, she finds looks being cast at her and Nigel that are ironically suspicious, and she knows she has about two seconds to say something before they explode.

No, she was wrong. She had about a millisecond.

"And just where were you two?"

"Been gone a while, eh?"

"I'm not surprised!"

"Very interesting..."

Rachel flushes pink and opens her mouth to deny anything and everything for the sake of them both, but Nigel steps in and does it for her. She's grateful, too, because he explains everything without giving anything away a lot more calmly then she would've.

Of course, the four of them don't look convinced in the slightest, but hey, at least they stopped firing questions and brash statements at them.

So the six of them just sit there and talk about various things of unimportance. Soon, Wally gets bored and decides it would be funny to throw a snowball and hit Patton. And it was (they're pretty sure he forgot where he was), until Fanny throws one that hits Kuki in the cheek, and then Abby chucks one at Fanny that explodes in her hair, and before you can blink, a snowball war is happening.

White balls of fluff fly through the air, hitting whoever's unfortunate enough to be standing in their path. It's probably the most fun that any of them have had in a while, but Rachel just doesn't want to be a part of it. She stealthily exludes herself and goes to sit on the bench she talked to Nigel on earlier, quietly watching the battle that seems to have divided the guys and the girls.

It doesn't take long for Kuki to notice they're down a troop.

"Hey, Rachel!" she calls with a smile, her pink cheeks dripping with wet snow. "We're kind of at a disadvantage without you! What's the matter?"

Rachel musters up a small smile and clutches her stomach.

"Stomache-ache! I'm fine, though!" she shouts back, thinking that she must be a terrible actress, but hopes it's enough to fool Kuki. "Be strong, and fight on without me, soldiers!"

She looks iffy at first, but Kuki eventually offers up a smile and says, "Ma'am, yes, ma'am!", bringing her hand to her forehead and giving a salute. Rachel can't help but smile when Fanny and Abby turn and do the same before they aim two more snowballs at Hoagie and Patton and let them fly.

"Hey, no fair!" Hoagie splutters indignantly when the girls hit their targets. "No pep talks!"

"And I suppose it's fair that it's four against three?" Abby counters with a laugh.

Rachel allows herself a tiny chuckle and ducks her head, wrapping her arms tighter around her torso and waits for the battle to come to an end. Because of much as she likes watching her friends really enjoying themselves, she really wants nothing more than to curl up on her bed with her iPod and a candy bar and get her mind straight.

She looks up because she feels someone staring at her, and she's right because Nigel was just a second ago. But the second she raises her head, he's smiling and laughing and knocking Kuki over by catching her off guard with a snowball to the temple. She smiles subconsiously.

Nice shot.

He looked away so quickly that she starts to wonder if he was ever really watching at her to begin with (or if she just wanted him to). But she shakes her head ruefully and squints at the ground because that's not true. She knows better.

She knows him.

... ...

Okay, she's completely aware that she's a total wreck right now.

After the raging snowball war had come to an end, she had said goodbye to everyone (okay, maybe she just sort of glanced in Nigel's direction, but whatever) and walked the three blocks to her house, feeling perfectly fine. Then she had kissed her parents and brother (much to his very loud protests), grabbed a bag of M&Ms and trecked up the stairs to her room. Following the event of exchanging her damp clothes for a pair of shorts and a tank top, she had climbed into bed and just sort of sat there for a few seconds.

Before she started crying for the second time that day.

And that's what she was doing now, sitting there as heavy tears spill down her cheeks. She's not making any kind of sound, either, she's just silently crying. It's weird, too, because she doesn't even feel like she needs to. She's not really sad. But it's like she can't control the tears and figures it's her body's way of telling her she needs to just let it all out.

So she allows the waterfalls to flow.

Then she's grabbing her cellphone from her bedside dresser and dialing because she really just wants to talk to somebody (and her mom, dad, and especially Harvey are out of the question).

She holds the phone up to her ear and listens to it ring a few times before someone answers, "Hello?"

"Uh, hey Fanny, it's Rachel."

"Oh!" the voice noticeably brightens. "Hey, Rachel. How are ye?"

She's kind of not sure how she should answer.

"...I'm fine..." She can tell Fanny notices the hesitation.

"Oh...kay. Well, was there anything ye wanted teh talk to me about?"

And just like that, she's telling her everything, starting from the beginning and down to the very last detail. Fanny's been her friend for as long as she can remember, longer than Nigel even, so she feels completely comfortable telling her. And even if she wasn't, it's not like she can exactly control the seemingly endless ramble she's in the middle of right now.

Eventually, she finishes (after pausing for a few minutes on account of suddenly gaining the hiccups) and waits expectantly for Fanny to say something. After a few moments of silence, all she gets for a response is, "Wow."

Rachel exhales loudly (she didn't even know she was holding her breath) and actually laughs a little. "Well, I was actually hoping for some advice on what I should do, but okay, 'wow' works too."

Rachel can hear hear something shifting on the other line, and the redhead sounds kind of exasperated when she answers, "I'm sorry. I just... I don't know what to do. I mean, the best advice I have for ya is teh talk to him, but—"

"Yeah, you really don't know what to do," Rachel interuppts, and she hopes Fanny won't take her tone the wrong way.

"That's what I just said," Fanny responds teasingly before adding, "What's wrong with talking to him? I'm sure he's not mad or anythin'."

"Actually, I'm almost certain that he is," Rachel says, bringing a hand up to twist a lock of hair around her finger.

"And why is that?"

"Because... well, you know how I said I took his sunglasses off, right?" She waits until Fanny confirms that she remembers before continuing. "Well, what if he thinks that that's the only reason I wanted to kiss him?"

A pause.

"Then he's not very smart," Fanny says, and the seriousness in her voice catches Rachel off guard. "Rachel, you're a great girl, and Nigel's not stupid enough tah think that you'd be selfish and use him like that. He knows ye better than that."

Rachel considers her words before asking, "Do you think I made a mistake? That I should've waited?"

Fanny's suddenly cracking up and the other end and Rachel's cheeks start to burn because she seriously thinks that her answer might be yes, but Fanny soon composes herself and says, "Okay... Rachel. We're all going teh lose all our memories of each other in less than two weeks. The sooner you let him know ye care about him, the better. Besides, it's always better to take a chance."

"So... kinda like you and Patton in the park today?" When there's no answer for a minute, Rachel holds the phone away and laughs into her hand. Because it's pretty hilarious that Fanny thought she would forget. "I mean, come on. If anybody was taking chances today, it was you two. Who started it, anyway?"

"Eh... I don't know. Both of us, I guess. I really don't remember."

"That's 'cause you were lost in make-out land."

"Ugh. Rachel—"

"You know I was actually worried you guys would pass out from lack of oxygen."

"Rachel—"

"And how funny would that have been—"

"Rachel, you know you're not going to be able teh avoid your situation by mocking me."

Rachel pouts and curses her friend because that's exactly what she was hoping to do. But she figures that realizing that now is far better than later when she's had time to blow everything out of proportion by thinking about it too much.

"...I know," she says quietly.

"So hang up and call him, okay?" Fanny aks, her tone soothing. It's almost ironic how it makes her start to lose it again.

"But how do I know if—"

"Don't ask me, ask him. Nigel's not gonna judge you for anything you say, alright?"

Rachel sucks in a breath and lets it out slowly. She wants to believe Fanny, but how could she possibly know? Nigel could start chewing her out before she even got through her first sentence, but a part of her knows that's not true, that he would never. So she decides to trust Fanny's words, because what other option does she really have? She nods before she remembers Fanny can't see her and says a quiet, "Okay."

"Call me as soon as it's over, yeah?"

"Yeah. Okay," Rachel says, and in the next second, she's disconnected to what she feels to be her only lifeline right now. She stares at the phone for a long time, like it'll bite her if she dare make a move to call any sunglasses-wearing British boy. Her finger's hovering over the first number and she's mentally screaming at herself to start dialing, but she can't move. She really wants to, but she can't.

She's always found the term 'frozen in fear' silly, but wouldn't dare laugh at it now.

Then suddenly, the phone's ringing, and she's making this startled noise in the back of her throat and falling ungracefully from her bed and onto the floor. (Well, she can't say she's ever had such an extreme reaction to a phonecall before, but hey, at least it woke her up.)

She scrambles back to her feet, grabs the phone, and almost drops it a second time. The caller is Nigel.

She sort of freezes again before she snaps at herself to get it together and take the call before it's too late. Because how bad would that look? Ignoring him only to call him back a second later. So she takes one last look at the name on the screen, presses the 'answer' button, and brings the phone to her ear and listens.

He's probably waiting for her to say 'Hello' or something, but he can forget that because it seems like she's lost the ability to speak.

(Fantastic. Now she's stopped breathing.)

"...Hey, Rachel..."

And she's so immesely grateful that he went ahead and said something, because it's like the sound of his voice helped her to breathe again.

"Hi, Nigel."

She eases back onto her bed and prepares for the conversation that she hopes will smooth things back over between them. Because when she gets decommisioned on the Friday after next, she wants her heart to be as light as possible, and she just doesn't think it can be unless she and Nigel have the relationship they had before today happened. (And maybe something more.)

But as she settles back into her pillows and listens to him begin some sort of rambled apology, she smiles this tiny little smile and knows that, in the end, they're going to be okay.


A/N: WHEN IT COMES TO WRITING FANNY'S ACCENT, I SUCK LEMONS!

So, what'd you think? It's a new kind of style I'm testing, and it's pretty... relaxing if that makes sense. :P

So just why did Nigel freak out so bad when Rachel took off his shades? Well, dear reader, that is a story for another day. And possibly another author. :P But right now, you can just leave it up to your imaginations.

So, it's been nearly a year since I published something, but I think I'm going to try to post stuff quicker (I've got so many ideas). I've just been conflicted with this other archive. But it's finally summer again! And the authors on this archive seem really nice, so I'm hoping everything goes smoothly.

And again, Happy Birthday, AllCaileyGirl! Hope you liked it.

Please Review. I'd love that. :)

~TannaKotaZ03