Hiya! (: So I've recently gained a strong interest (-cough- obsession -cough-) with Codename: Kids Next Door. And what more could I do rather than write dreamy fanfics about them? :D A few quick notes: this is my very first KND story ever. Have mercy, if you please. -smiles hopefully and is pelted by rotten tomatoes- Ahem. While I cleanse my face of red fruit (yes, FRUIT :o) I'd also like to point out that anything established in Operation: ZERO or Operation: INTERVIEWS will take pretty much no part in this story. Why? I haven't seen them. -more tomatoes- SO. This takes place when each member of Sector V is twelve years old. I wouldn't say it's about any one particular character; I'd like to think they'll all play an equal part in the story. But, who knows? I'm never one to have full control of a story as it progresses. (: Okay, enough of my rambling; enjoy! -whips out fruit AND vegetable shield-

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Why not amnesia? Why couldn't they simply get amnesia when they turned thirteen? It had the exact same effect as decommissioning - no one could remember a thing. It even caused a little extra pain, in case the younger KND wanted to give the 'teenagers' their first butt-kicking on their way out! Plus, every KND operative knew perfectly well that they would have questionable toilet plungers thrusted directly onto their faces when the time came. It wasn't like any of them could be looking forward to that. And yet, each operative knew perfectly well that the very fate awaited each of them. Because of the cold, sad truth.

Decommissioning is permanent.

It was these thoughts that raced through the minds of Sector V as they pretended to relax in their treehouse, as if it were a day just like any other. All of them stood firmly at the age of twelve. Twelve, going on thirteen. However, one was much closer to that dreaded age than any of them would wish. And so Abigail Lincoln felt her heart sinking ever deeper into her chest as the minutes ticked by.

They were all painfully aware that the girl's thirteenth birthday was just days away - four, to be precise - and it was eating away the team's spirit like termites at a woodshop. The large, crudely-made clock that hung over the pantry made is ticking noises seemingly louder by the second. It seemed it would drive any one of them bonkers at any second; all five pre-teens were considerably tense in their usual spots.

Suddenly a loud "Ragh!" was heard before a football was flung at the clock, sending it to the wood-board floor and breaking it in two. The feeble ticking continued for a moment before it was silent. The football rolled clumsilly to a halt nearby. The very same football Wallabee Beatles had been tossing anxiously a moment before.

Three individuals, including Abby, turned to the youth with agrivated expressions, but the Aussie was looking - rather scared - at the younger girl sitting beside him. Her hair was ruffled and her eyes firey. Kuki Sanban's frustration seemed to have gotten the better of her, forcing her to seize Wally's football and use it to end the clock's life.

"Sorry," the young Japanese mumbled as she leaned over the arm of the couch she sat in, resting her chin in the crook and pouting with a sadness and anger no one could fix - not even Wally, who leaned over awkwardly to pat her shoulder, an attempt at comfort.

Kuki wasn't the only one who was frustrated; everyone in Sector V was terrified of having Abby gone from their lives. At least with the clock not ticking threateningly any longer, they didn't have such a constant reminder of Abby's numbered days in the Kids Next Door.

"Hey, um, want some ice cream, Numbah 5?" Hoagie Gilligan attempted in a would-be cheerful voice. The boy was considerably less plump than he had been at ten, though one wouldn't quite call him 'slim'. It was like him to suggest sweets to make one feel better.

Abby half-smiled when Hoagie used her codename. The other operatives had been calling her 'Numbah 5' quite frequently in the last few months; it seemed they wanted her to feel the full experience of a KND operative while she still had the time. She appreciated the gesture, but it seemed it made her all the more upset.

"Nah, Numbah 5's cool." The girl stood up from her seat at the computer desk; it wasn't like she was busy. Staring at the computer screen could sometimes help fill the emptiness she was feeling. Probably because the background featured five young children, care-free and diverse, yet they all fit together in perfect sync. The photograph showed Abby, Wally, Kuki, Hoagie, and Nigel Uno, the sector's leader, who was currently trying to busy himself with preparing battle plans for any future fight. Fights Abby would not face with them.

The blue-clad girl walked past all of them - stopping briefly to give Wally a noogie over the couch, to which he displayed strong protest - and headed down the hall to her room.

The rest of the sector watched her go until they heard Nigel sigh. They each turned to him and were somewhat surprised to see the anger and frustration on his usually unreadable face. He gripped the sides of his head with his hands; if he had any hair, he would surely be pulling at it.

"Planning battles is impossible! Without Ab- Numbah 5, the coordinations will be way off. And we don't even know who'll be assigned to Sector V in her place! Without a stealth expert, we'll practically be sitting ducks." He lay his head on the table before him for a moment before standing and scooting his chair in. "I've got to talk to Rachel; the new recruit will have to be chosen carefully."

He left opposite the way Abby had gone, to contact the Moon Base. No one watched him go. Hoagie folded his arms on the countertop in front of him and lay his head in them, exhausted. They were all well aware that the pilot had hardly slept a wink in weeks. Perhaps he stayed up thinking about what life in the Kids Next Door would be like without Abby, and possibly be wondering about his own up-coming decommissioning.

At least, everyone else seemed to be thinking it.

Wally glanced over as the couch cushion shifted and saw that Kuki had gotten up to fetch the dustpan and broom, which hung from their hooks dusty and stirring with cobwebs; it wasn't like a bunch of kids had much use for cleaning supplies. Apparently the remainders of the clock on the floor were making her feel guilty.

"Eh, here, Numbah 3, Ah've got it," the Aussie decided as he got up from the couch as well to hold the dustpan for Kuki. She glanced at him, and the look in her eyes showed that she'd smile her thank-you if there were anything to smile about. The two shared a look for a moment, emerald eyes locked with violet.

The trance broke when they heard the pantry door slam, and they looked up to see Hoagie standing sheepishly with a granola bar and a juice box. "Heh heh, um, sorry," he apologized for the loud noise. He obviously hadn't been aware of the moment the other two were sharing, but he certainly was now.

"I'm gonna, erm, go work on the C.O.O.L.B.U.S." Giving a sort of awkward salute-thing with his free hand, he hurried off to his room, leaving the remaining two operatives to stare after him, before exchanging a look.

"Um, yeah. Here," Wally extended the dustpan towards where Kuki was sweeping. She piled the shattered clock pieces into the pan and leaned on the broomstick while Wally dumped them into the trash. They replaced the cleaning supplies on their hooks and returned to the couch, though it was undoubtedly uncomfortable to sit together with so many empty seats in the room. Yet somehow, they both agreed to it.

"Thanks," Kuki piped up suddenly from where she sat on the far right side of the couch. Wally waved it off with his hand. "So..." Her hand seemed to be scuttling tentatively towards Wally's. Her face gave away nothing; it was as if her hand were moving on its own accord.

Wally noticed it too. He tried to fix his eyes on the television in front of him, though it was hard with the show muted. He knew very well that he should probably be comforting Kuki right now. She would be losing her best girl friend - possibly for good - in a matter of days. Not to mention, their own decommissionings weren't far off, much as they tried not to think about it. Plus, Wally still was fixated on the idea that the two of them could only ever be 'friends'. He knew quite well that he liked Kuki very much - probably more than a fellow operative should. He had come to terms with this a while back. In fact, he wouldn't be surprised to know that what he was feeling was love.

But of course, it was pretty pointless.

Kuki was ... well, Kuki. She was giggly, and bubbly, and sweet and innocent and nice and all that other good stuff. Plus, as she grew she had gone from sheer adorability to being a very pretty young lady. (Oh, God, Wally thought, Ah sound loike my mum.) She still wasn't the most level-headed, but she'd proved time and time again to be quite intelligent. Wally would say she was just about perfect.

Which was exactly why it would never work. Wally was painfully different from Kuki. Her delicate grace was challenged by his blunt callousness. Her beauty differed from his battle scars. She was just plain good. Wally often had trouble deciphering right from wrong. He knew they were a terrible match. It just couldn't work. And it was that knowledge that kept Wally from spilling his guts for so long. If he ever told Kuki how he truly felt, they would both end up getting hurt, when he'd much rather have it so that only he felt the wounds of love.

These thoughts coursed through his head and, before he knew it, Kuki's fingertips were just millimeters from his. He watched their hands, then he turned to her eyes, flickering with sadness and longing and memories and ... something else he couldn't quite place. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but nothing came out; she only mouthed "Wally."

Wally found he could not look away. He felt dangerously close to suddenly telling her everything when finally - finally! - her fingertips brushed his. It felt as if the brief touch sent an electric shock coursing throughout his whole body, and as if being controlled by some other force, he stood up quite spontaneously, suddenly blushing like mad, trying to make his eyes find anything but Kuki.

"Eh, Ah'd better, uh, um, go work out. Just 'cause we haven't been on a mission in a while doesn't mean we never will be, eh?" He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, forcing himself to stare at the ground. Don't look in her eyes, a voice in his head told him. If you do, you'll never leave. Coughing, he turned and walked at a fast pace towards his own room, leaving Kuki alone.

The Japanese youth sighed, pulling her legs up on the couch and resting her forehead on her knees. Stupid, stupid, stupid! She mentally kicked herself repeatedly. You always, always, pick the most inappropriate times for these things. Abby's leaving; you should be sad. Devastated. Don't worry about him now.

A migrane began making its presense known, so Kuki stretched out her legs on the couch and lay back on one of the pillows, staring up at the ceiling blankly. How foolish I am to think he'd be thinking about me - especially at a time like this! He doesn't feel the same; get over it.

Though Kuki knew she could never 'get over it', she could try to free her mind from the troubled thoughts racing through it - for the moment, anyway. Closing her eyes, she began thinking back on some of her first days with the Kids Next Door; the Training Academy... their first mission... her tenth birthday, on which she was able to lead a mission! What a (messy) time that had been.

And so Kuki Sanban slowly drifted off to sleep. Because, as it was, there really, truly wasn't a thing to do.

-

Hoagie Gilligan wasn't what one would call 'romantic'. If anything, he was 'desperate' or someone who 'needs a clue'. At least, those things could be gleaned from the never-ending gossip of seventh-grade girls.

Tightening in a screw beneath the engine of the C.O.O.L.B.U.S., he cursed quietly under his breath, though he knew no one would be able to hear him. He was angry with himself; Abby was being decommissioned in a few days. If Hoagie didn't tell her the truth about how he felt, he'd never get the chance. Being a boy who was well aware of his feelings - as opposed to a certain blonde Australian - he had long since known of his own fondness toward Abby. Now, Hoagie had never been particularly afraid of rejection; in fact, he used to chase after Abby's sister, Cree, endlessly, no matter how many times she shot him down. But this, this was different. It was Abby.

If he were to confess to her ... what then? With the others - Wally and Kuki; Nigel and Rachel - it was so obvious that both felt strong feelings for one another. But Abby ... she rarely showed her emotions to anyone, even her closest friends. It was basically impossible for Hoagie to know how she felt. And if anyone had a chance to know, it was him. It seemed the pudgy young man had a gift for seeing through Abby's hard shell, to see her real emotions - or at least the basics of them. But knowing if she loved him, or anyone, was pretty much out of the question. If there was one thing Abby would keep secret, it was her romantic feelings.

Thus, Hoagie was left without a clue. But he couldn't keep how he felt to himself for the rest of his life ... he'd practically be Wally if he did! He'd just have to take a shot in the dark, and hope he didn't miss.

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"I'm sorry, Numbah 1. I'm swamped up here; I can't concentrate on who's going to take Numbah 5's place right now." The stacks of paper on either side of Rachel showed that it was true; some document or other slightly obscured Nigel's view of her on the screen.

The bald boy bit back a sigh. He was well aware of Rachel's massive duties, and knew he shouldn't ask of her to pay particular attention to his sector when she had so much to worry about. But the little devil on his shoulder had told him that he had a shot at averting Rachel's attention long enough for him to gain this advantage. A small part of him was aware of the Soopreme Leaduh's fondness towards him, and let him know that he had a better chance at getting Rachel's undevided attention than any other operative.

But the girl's voice was firm, though her features showed sympathy. She would miss Abby too; the whole of the Kids Next Door would. She, along with her sector, were quite superior in their own specialties, as well as their abilities as a team. Rachel didn't call them 'one of her best sectors' for no reason.

And yet...

"I understand," Nigel put in suddenly, though his voice was sullen.

Rachel felt a twinge of guilt tug at her conscience. She flustered for a moment before whipping out a home-made calculator and doing some complicated equation on it before asking, "How about tomorrow? Your team can report to the Moon Base and we'll discuss which potential operatives would best replace Numbah 5."

Nigel couldn't help but wince. Of course no one would be able to truly replace Numbah 5 to any of them, not by a long shot. But it had to be done, so he nodded. "Tomorrow will suffice."

Rachel tried to smile encouragingly at him, but found she hadn't the heart; instead she regained her business-like manner and allowed her usual no-nonsense scowl to fall back into place. "Right. Report here tomorrow at eleventeen-hundred. Numbah 362 over and out." With that, the screen went black. Nigel rubbed the back of his neck, his nerves not letting him sit still for a minute. Letting his hands clasp behind his back, he paced about his contact room.

Tomorrow would not be easy.

-

"Good thing the new agent was here to let us past the defenses," growled a deep voice, far too mature for a child.

Another snorted. "Let's just get those battle plans and get out. Bein' in here gives me the creeps." The dark-clad figure gave a shudder to demonstrate his point.

The first individual gave a small nod, and the two seperated to scope out the tree house, hiding repeatedly behind branches and shelves, just in case the sleeping gas they'd let loose minutes earlier hadn't reached every room just yet.

The first one to speak came across Kuki sleeping soundly on the couch, her raven hair framing her pale face like a picture. "Humph," he spoke again, "Quite a looker, this one is. Wouldn't mind having her on our side."

The second waved off the comment. "She'll be within our ranks soon, don't worry." By the looks of it, she was well into her twelfth year of life. It wouldn't be long.

"There you are," drawled the deeper voice when a new, smaller figure appeared, silhouetted by the afternoon sun shining from the window at the end of the hall.

"Keep it down," the form warned, removing the gas mask that muffled the words. "I told you I'd get the plans. Here," a gloved hand reached out to the taller figure, and held in it was a rolled up blueprint design.

The larger person grabbed it graciously and tucked it into his jet-pack pocket. "Pleasure doin' business with you," he murmured in a voice that very nearly made the new-comer shiver with fear. "I 'spect you'll be stayin' at our headquarters very soon. This little deed of yours has all but secured your place with the teenagers."

The young'n grinned. "Just as I hoped. Glad I decided to work for you early." With that, the individual gave a strange salute, very much different from the one used by the KND, and turned on their heel to march back down the hallway to their secluded room.

The two intruders smirked at one another - though it was pointless; the armor covering the lower halves of their faces made the gesture invisible - and turned tail to quietly exit the treehouse. As the second slowly climbed down the window which led to the empty sky outside, he chanced one last glance at the slumbering Kuki and smirked once more.

"Be seein' ya soon, girly. Be seein' ya all real soon."

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Alright, now, truthfully: how terrible was it? Dreadful? Drab? Dschmoring? (For lack of a better word that starts with 'd' :/)Welp, lemme know :D -hides behind shield and waits-