I don't know when Nigel and Rachel's birthdays are, so I'm making it how I want, so they're close to the same age. And no, Nigel was not taken by the GKND.

Don't own Codename: KND. Do own my OC and a few other things.


Rachel wasn't a happy camper at the moment. Not happy or even camping.

She was always stressed, regardless if it was a good day for her or not. She was Numbuh 362; Supreme Commander of the Kids Next Door. She was always stressed on multiple things. She always had paperwork, which she wouldn't mind if it was on something else besides more candy rations and adding new flavors of ice cream. That got annoying fast. Then there was the fact of trying to run an organization comprised of millions to billions of children, each having individual assignments, some of which were vital to the KND, and where kids could get hurt, and, believe it or not, there had been a few casualties, numbering 5, while on mission. Then there was complaining, but she had grown to ignore most of the idiotic bits of it.

Then to top it off with her 13th birthday coming in a month...

She gave a tired sigh as she stared out into space, watching as ships came to and fro from Moonbase, clutching her mug of hot chocolate. Regardless of how things were, she'd miss all of it.

As of late, the KND was at a moment of peace if anyone could believe it. Nothing remarkable had happened for two or three days; a new record. Many were at their Sector bases, doing whatever they did to pass the time.

"Sir." Fanny announced on the comm. line in her office. "Numbuh 1's here. He'd like to speak with you."

She pressed a button. "Let him in 86." She said, still staring out into space. She didn't have to wait long before he was in her office.

"Numbuh 36-" He began, saluting.

"Please Nigel. I think we've known each other long enough to speak on a first name bases." Rachel replied, now leaning on the glass.

"Sorry Rachel. Habit of mine." He dropped his hand.

"As well as many others." She sipped the chocolate drink. There was silence before Nigel walked up to the window, standing next to her, looking out at the great expanse.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

"As well as I'll ever be I guess." She replied, resting her cheek on the window. "I don't like thinking about it. Now and days I just want to enjoy every little thing. I only have a month before I forget all of this." She spread her arms out and did a quick spin, empathizing everything.

"I know how you feel." Nigel was two months away from decommissioning.

Nigel and Rachel had become close after the I.T incident, and it was common for the two to refer to each other by their real names rather than their code numbers. They saw each other often for different reasons. Sometimes they'd see the other if they just wanted to talk, or when a personal matter came in the others lives, or when they just needed to vent emotion. Both however, kept the relationship strictly professional. They were close friends, but they couldn't see anything past that, and that was fine by them.

"How do you cope with it Nigel? Many operatives have payed me a visit, telling me that they appreciate the job I do and that they'll miss me. I've seen a few friends, but my birthday keeps getting in there."

"You just have to deal with it. That all we can do. Even when around my team, that subject always pops into my mind."

"I just wish we could stay children." Rachel said in a defeated tone.

Nigel placed a hand on her shoulder. "Don't we all Rachel." He gave it a reassuring squeeze.

A voice interrupted their thoughts. "Sir, we've located a ship, not one of ours. It's got a distress beacon on."

"Distress beacon? Can you tell who it belongs to?" Rachel asked.

"Nothing from the KND, Teenz, or Adults. And it's not a drone. Someone is in there."

"Bring it in, but be careful. It could be a trap." Rachel motioned to Nigel. "Come on. We need to see this for ourselves."

"Right behind you."

When they reached the hanger, they found the ship already pulled in. The ship was black, and in a strange diamond shape, with forward swept wings attached to the back line segments. The ship had seen better days, as where the wings would be was torn completely off. Multiple dents and holes could be seen, with oil leaking from each one.

A stretcher came past them, holding the body of a boy, whose body was donned with black armor of some sort. His face was young, his hair brown and his skin lightly tanned. He had a nasty gash on his head, dried blood plastering some of his hair to his face.

"What can you tell me?" Rachel asked Fanny.

"Well, it's obvious the ship did have a living being on board. No idea who he is. He doesn't come up in anything, even the teens. Heck, not even info that he's alive. The ship itself is very advance, even more so then standard military tech. We're going to begin research on it. Besides that, I haven't much else." She said with a shrug. "They'll check him out and then we can question him."

"I'll do that." Rachel said.

"Yes sir." Fanny replied.

"Why would a kid ride a ship so sophisticated? How would he even know how to fly one of these things? How did he get his hands on it?" Nigel said, glancing at the interior of the cockpit, mostly a shattered screen in front of the pilot seat. There were barely any knobs or dials. "Numbuh 2 would love to fly something like this." He stated to himself.

"I have no idea, but we'll find out soon enough."

The twenty minutes it took to make sure the boy was even alive was quick, almost seeming like five minutes. At that, Rachel, Nigel, and Fanny made their way into the room.

The boy in question was on a bed, the armor on his upper body having been removed. The only sign of any injury was the bandage that now covered the broken skin on his head, near his temple. His breathing was slow, and he seemed rather peaceful.

"Anything new?"

"Only that we have determined that he is 14 years of age. Besides that, nothing new." The doctor said.

"14? So he's working for the Teens? Maybe the Adults?" Nigel said aloud.

"I'm not sure. The only way we find out is to speak with him." Fanny said, eyeing the boy with mistrust. The only reason he'd be flouting out there was so he could get here. Now she just needed to know what he was after.

Rachel was more preoccupied studying his features. He had a rather small forehead, his brown, shaggy hair looking like he never combed it in his life. His chin was normal sized, if there was such thing as a 'normal' size, with a 'normal' noes. One feature that she caught though was the scar on his right eye, traveling straight down his face. It began at the center of his forehead, and ended at the middle of his right cheek. She could see other scars on his upper body, some small, some large.

Then his brown eyes opened.

She gasped at the color. Sure, brown eyes were not a new thing, but something radiated from this boy, something only his eyes could say. They looked confident, steadfast, determined, and ready to...

She found an arm wrapped around her neck a second later.

The other operatives in the room, including the doctors, pulled weapons, aiming straight at the teen holding their commander. At that point, the teen pulled his weapon and placed the barrel on Rachel's head.

She tried guessing what weapon it was. She'd never felt a weapon like this in all her life. It wasn't even close to anything the KND, allies or enemies had. But one of the doctors recognized the weapon, and the words he said made Rachel's heart beat faster and her breath hitch.

"Is that a nine mill?!"


The boy didn't know where he was.

One minute he was in his ship, trying to outrun other fighters. Then it turned black, he couldn't remember anything after that. He could hear speaking, could feel his body be lifted then placed on something. He could feel what he thought was a bandage on his head, heard more voices. Now, he was finally able to open his eyes, and had other brown eyes staring back at him.

He didn't waist time when he saw them. His arm had reached out to the individual, grabbing the sweatshirt before wrapping his arm around them. His blurred vision picked up more people in the room, pulling weapons on him. He had his weapon on his hostage's head.

He was in a tight spot. All that changed when he hard a voice call out.

"Is that a nine mill?!"

'Wait.' He thought. 'That doesn't sound like a teen or adult."

He shook his head, trying to clear his blurred eye sight and the pulsing of his head, though it made the latter worst, and when he could start seeing who in fact he was holding and in front of him.

Children.

"Oh damn it." He said aloud. He could see the kids begin to drop their weapons, nearly breaking them with the amount of force they threw them down with. The girl in his hands hadn't tried to move, now just moving with his body. The only physical attribute he could make out was her blond hair. She wore an aqua-colored jumpsuit, an orange sweatshirt with purple stripes, and gray and brown sandals. She had a colander that she had used as a helmet on the floor, with a two blue sabers on it and an orange plate in the center with "362".

'So this is the Kids Next Door. Moonbase if I remember correctly.'

He whispered into the blond girl's ear. "I'm going to let you go. I don't want them going for their weapons. Understand?"

The girl shook her head slowly, and to his slight surprise, her breathing was even, though he could feel her quickly beating heart on his chest.

He simply let her go and pushed her gently forward, now with her evenly between the boy and KND.

The others immediately dived for their weapons.

"No!" The blond screamed, and everyone paused, weapons already in hand.

"Um, sorry about that." The boy said, holstering his weapon. "That was a...reaction of mine. I'm sorry if I scared any of you." He glanced at the children, the bald one holding what looked like some condiment attached to a stick, and he had to remind himself that this was KND.

"Drop your weapons." The girl said.

Nigel stared at her. "What? But Rachel-"

"I said, drop your weapons." She stated again, with more force this time.

They threw their weapons to the floor once again.

"Now, if we could all be civil." She turned to the boy. "What was that? As soon as you open your eyes you attack people?" Rachel asked the boy, her attitude rather calm and collective for someone who had a gun to their head a few seconds ago.

"I already said that I'm sorry. It's not like I can control an impulse when I blacked out while on sortie." The boy replied with some irritation.

"What exactly was your mission?" Rachel asked, getting to questioning him.

"Classified."

"Where did you acquire the ship?"

"No data available."

"Who do you work for?"

"This One cannot hand important information to young one."

Rachel gave an annoyed sigh. This boy wasn't going to answer any of her questions was he?

"Can I at least have your name?"

The boy glanced at them for a second before answering.

"Name's Andrew Ruiz." He scratched absentmindedly at his bandage.

"You can't tell me who you work for?"

"That is correct."

"We're you at any point a Kids Next Door member?"

Andrew paused, debating weather it was smart to say anything or not, but he decided it would be easier if he answered truly.

"I was at a point."

"And you still remember everything?"

"Yes. I was never decommissioned. And no, I did not resist, I was deemed too valuable an asset to lose."

"What was your number?"

"Numbuh 2395."

A collective gasp could be heard from almost everyone in the room.

"You find that surprising?" He said with raised eyebrows.

"Numbuh 2395, born March 21, 1936, Las Angles, California. Youngest Supreme Commander in the KND to this date. Was presumed dead during the Northern Blitz." Nigel said, referring to the Korean War. The KND had operatives in both North and South Korea, and when the South was invaded, both sides tried to hold back the advancing North Korean army to allow civilians to escape. Unfortunately, both sectors, as well as any operatives assisting, were decimated at the end of the defense, no survivors. Had the South Korean army not blown the bridge that crossed the Han River, they may have survived. Numbuh 2395 had traveled there, against the wishes of a many high officers and operatives, because of his record of accomplishing the impossible, and it was deemed impossible for them to save even a hundred lives. He proved them wrong, saving tens of thousands of civilians, as well as a rather large portion of the South Korean army on that front. It was one of the bloodiest battles fought by the KND to this date, where over ten thousand operatives lost their lives. It was a day of many tears for the KND.

As for Numbuh 2395, he was among the projected dead. What with his mission record, and sheer will and determination, his legacy was one to remember. On top of the world until Numbuh Zero, and possibly Numbuh 1, though the battle of '1 vs. 2395' is still debated among many KND operatives, including normal operatives, doctors, instructors, historians, and officers.

"Oh. Right." He said, scratching his head. He forgot about that incident. He cruse himself for even giving his number. Now they had even more reason to mistrust him. Hell, they probably thought he was crazy.

'And I'm not even suppose to discuss things like this.'

"I don't see it as far fetched as you think I would." Rachel said, causing Andrew eyebrow to rise. "We found one kid who we called Numbuh nineteenth century. He was incased in ice cream and was preserved until we found him, along with five thousand others. So I can believe that." She stepped forward, stood in front of Andrew, and put her hand out take a him.

"I'm going to give you the befit of the doubt. So can I trust you?" She said sternly.

"You're taking a hell of a risk." Andrew said.

"Benefit of the doubt. I repeat, benefit of the doubt. That's all I can do for you. I'll believe your story because that's all I can do. You will, though, provide just small pieces of info that are not vital to the organization you work for. If your group comes after you, you are to explain to them that you are to remain here for a period of two months. I can only hope that you won't turn in us. So, can I trust you?" She repeated, her brown eyes meeting his.

He reached out to her hand and gave it a firm shake while smirking at her.

"Alright princess."

Rachel's eye twitched at the name. "Did you just call me-"

"Princess? Yes, I did. And I'm sorry to say that I'm not dropping the name anytime soon." He said mater-a-factly.

"I'd rather call me 362." She replied with the same attitude.

"I'd rather call you princess."

"Three. Sixty. Two. You can call me that."

"Princess. I can call you that." He repeated. Rachel's eye twitched even more, and her voice was a little more hostile then it was to begin with.

"Three." She made the number with her fingers. "Six. Two. Three sixty two, thirty six two, three hundred sixty two, it doesn't matter, but stop calling me princess."

"No. I won't stop."

"Yes you will."

"Nope."

"Yes."

"Zilch."

"You will stop."

"Nada."

"Yes! How many times do I have to repeat it?!" She nearly screamed.

"Now look who's repeating themselves. I'm not dropping the name. I repeat, I'm not dropping the name."

Rachel sighed. "Can you stop calling me that?"

"No."

"Can you please stop calling me princess?" She asked politely. Maybe he'd listen.

Andrew was slightly taken back by the change of attitude, as his eyebrow raised a fraction. His face showed he was clearly thinking about it.

"No thank you."

Rachel rubbed her eyes. "Nigel?"

"Yeah?" He said timidly.

"If you may?"

Nigel already knew where this was going, and did as he was told. Andrew watched curiously.

"What are you-"

Splat!

Actually, Nigel didn't expect that.

"Ahh!" Andrew cried as he was hit by a yellow substance. He glanced at himself, sniffed the stuff that was on his fingers, and took a lick.

"Mustard? You shot me with mustard? How immature are you?!"

"I'm still a child. I'm only mature when I need to be, and at this point, you're really getting on my nerves by being in idiot. If you're not going to treat me right, I'm not going to treat you right." She stated calmly.

"It's not going down like that princess!" He said as he swiped the gun Rachel had used and turned it on the user.

Splat!

"Ahh!" She only glanced at herself for a second before glaring at Andrew.

"Oh heck no!" Rachel screamed as she tackled Andrew to the ground. The both rolled around the room, too busy trying to beat the other to a pulp to notice the multiple pair of eyes watching them.

Many of then had been astonished that she'd trust him, even when his story could not check out. Then the fact that he was teasing her, and had even shot at him, even though he had a weapon that was made to kill, and yet here they were, rolling on the floor, covering the ground with mustard. Nigel was the first to comment between the yelling and death threats.

"They argue like a married couple."

"WHAT!" Both Andrew and Rachel stopped mid roll, their eyes throwing daggers at Number One.

He soon found himself navigating throughout the Moonbase, trying to outrun the two as mustard and ketchup caked everyone unfortunate enough to get in the way, all the while Rachel and Andrew continued shouting death threats, to each other and to Nigel.


I will explain why the KND was involved in military conflicts in later chapters. As for Rachel and Andrew attacking each other like that, they're still technically kids, and we all have that tendency to beat someone to a pulp as a child if they keep calling us something we don't want them to. Remember, this is still Kids Next Door.