A/N: I've come to a decision about something. I think this fic will be
connected with my other fics. You know, like Kevin Smith movies? All his
movies are connected slightly somehow. Basically all that means is that the
stuff that happened in "Weapon of Mass Destruction" and "Memories, Good and
Bad" happened in this fic, so there may be references. That's all. Hey, did
any of my lovely reviewers (thanks for the quick ones, VTbots and Melody
Hoshi Sugar) watch "Conspiracy Theory" like I told them to? I certainly
hope so. And if not, your loss. Anyway, enjoy chapter 4!
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Despite Numbuh 5's comforting words and although 2's recovery was uncomplicated and quick, Numbuh 1 continued to sulk around the treehouse until late afternoon the next day, when he came across .19 playing some kind of card game on the computer. His curiosity got the better of his bitter mood and he made a small coughing noise to alert the teenager of his presence.
.19 jumped anyway, obviously having been very focused on her game, "Oh! H-hey, Numbuh 1, what's up?" She watched him as he crossed the room towards her.
The boy peered over .19's shoulder at the computerized cards, "What're you playing?" he asked.
"Solitaire," she replied, "Hope you don't mind if I installed it on these computers." She gestured to the array of screens before them, "Didn't think you'd mind."
Numbuh 1 did mind, he wasn't comfortable with the fact that apparently .19 could and would hack into their system just to put up a game, "Ask next time, alright?"
"Yeah," .19 readily complied, "definitely." She was silent a moment, "Hey, wanna learn how to play?" She pulled one of the extra desk chairs to face the screen.
1 eyed the seat for a beat before turning his eyes back on her. I must have SOMETHING better to do with my time than play a silly card game. He searched his mind, but nothing came up. He continued to watch .19 as her face changed from hopeful to persuading.
"C'mon, boss," she said, "You'll like it. I know it looks simple, but it really is a thinking-man's game. You gotta strategize. I know you'll like it."
Numbuh 1 was beginning to tire standing; he hadn't slept much at all for obvious reasons. So he wearily plopped into the offered chair, "Very well, I've got nothing better to do."
.19 smiled happily, "Cool." She turned to the screen and deleted the game she had been playing, "We'll start fresh, so I can show you how it goes." She clicked "Deal" in the game's control bar and immediately the small green screen the game was played on was populated by a stack of virtual cards in the upper left hand corner, a row of four outlined places along the upper edge, and seven increasing stacks of cards in a row along the middle of the screen.
"Okay," .19 began her instructing, "This is what you start with." She immediately started clicking on and moving certain cards. Two aces were double-clicked on and sent to the first two outlined places on the upper edge, a black four was moved onto a red five, and a red jack was moved onto a red queen. This left a blank space at the left end of the seven-strong row, as well as three extra cards to turn over. She did so, revealing a red four, a red eight, and a black seven, which was promptly moved on the red eight. The empty space made by the seven's departure was clicked on to show a red nine.
Out of moves, .19 sat back to explain her actions, "The point in solitaire is to get all the cards into their respective piles, diamond, heart, ace, or spade, in order from ace to king." She pointed at the now two outlined spaces, "The two other aces will go there, when and if they show up. You all the cards set up in order, but so that it's always a black card on a red card or red card on a black card, see?" she gestured to the black four on the red five and the black seven on the red eight, "Now, since I can't do anything else, I go to my extra pile," she moved her mouse to the pile in the corner of the screen and clicked on it. A black nine appeared beside the pile, "See, a black nine doesn't go anywhere," she motioned to the seven row, "So I've gotta click again."
She did so, and came up with nothing useful until up popped a red king. She dragged the card down to the empty space at the left corner of the seven row and also pulled the black queen and red jack to put on top of the king. Clicking on the new card left by the queen and jack, she got a red three, "Nuts, nothing," she grumbled slightly, but stayed calm and continued to play.
She played until suddenly she moved the mouse to control bar and clicked Deal. Numbuh 1 jerked from his stupor of watching her play with a look of indignation, "Hey! What'd you do that for? You just deleted that game!"
.19 looked vaguely confused at her student's passionate protest, "Chill, boss, it was a dead game," she explained calmly, "You can't save a dead game."
1 furrowed his brow, "You could've tried!"
.19 smiled and said like a mother to a petulant child, "There was nothing I could do for that game. There would've been no point in only prolonging the inevitable."
Numbuh 1 sat back in his seat with his arms crossed, "You could've tried..." he said, now only sounding tired and cross.
"Look," .19 said, rubbing a rumbling stomach, "I'm gettin' hungry. I think I'm gonna rustle us all up some dinner. You wanna take over for a bit?" she jerked her head toward the computer, and the fresh deal of solitaire cards.
1 looked up at her, his mood improving slightly at the thought of another delicious .19 meal on the way. Then his hidden eyes moved to the computer and the tempting cards, "Yes, I think I've got the gist of the game, I'll play." Oh, he would play alright, and he wouldn't just dump a game like .19 did.
"Good," the teenager said before pushing herself out of her chair, "Now, don't get hooked on it; this game can get pretty absorbing. Just stay calm and remember: it's just a game."
1 watched his new teammate leave with a raised eyebrow. How could he, of all people, get obsessed with a game? It seemed ridiculous to him, and he chuckled lightly at the thought as he started the new game.
:::
"Sweet!" 1 cried out, "Just what I needed, a red king!" He happily moved an ordered row of cards starting with a black queen onto the king, leaving a fresh card to turn. 1 relished this part of the game, when the new card could be anything. The lost ace of hearts he'd been searching for, or perhaps just a useless six of spades. There was only one way to find out-
"Aw, bloody hell!" the boy swore loudly, "A four of diamonds?! I have no use for THAT!" he groaned in frustration, "NOW what'll I do with that seven of clubs?"
"NUMBUH 1!!!" a very loud and very angry voice made the boy jump out of his seat.
"WHAT??!!" he shouted with equal heat as he clambered back into the wheeled chair.
"DINNER!!!" hollered Numbuh 4 in the doorway, "We been callin' you for fifteen minutes! What the cruddy 'eck ya' doin' in 'ere, discoverin' a cure for cancer?"
"No! I was playing a game."
4 sniffed dubiously, "Must be some game, then." He leaned his small body against the doorframe.
"Um, yes- yes it is," 1 replied, quickly deleting his game and standing up to face Numbuh 4. Something he couldn't identify told him not to share the game with his friend. He didn't know why the feeling had suddenly come over him, but he followed its instructions anyway, "So, dinner's ready, is it?"
"Yeh, come on, .19 will throw a fit if it gets cold while Ah'm pryin' you offa' that machine." He pushed himself off of the door and walked away from his leader, who stood trying to come up with a good retort to 4's burn. He came up with nothing, and so followed the other boy down the stairs toward the kitchen, feeling somehow drained enough to double his persistent lethargy.
Numbuh 4 only turned back to look at his leader again once he'd reached the bottom of the stairs, "Yeesh, Numbuh 1," the Aussie said when he'd gotten a good look at him in the light, "You look awful. Spendin' all that time in fronta' computer screen'll do that to ya'."
"I'm fine, Numbuh 4," 1 said tersely as he too reached the bottom of the stairs and walked passed 4.
"Fine, suit yourself, but don't say Ah didn't warn ya'." Now the small blonde followed 1 into the kitchen where .19 and the rest of the crew was waiting.
"Have fun?" the teenager asked Numbuh 1 as he sat down, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses. 2, 3, and 5 all eyed their leader with concern but said nothing.
"Yes, thank you," 1 said with faked energy, "What's for dinner?"
"Spaghetti!" cried Numbuh 3 happily.
"Yup," .19 smiled as she set down a large bowl of noodles, sauce, and meatballs, "And broccoli." Another bowl of the green vegetable was placed next to the first, and all five Kids Next Door recoiled in disgust.
"What is DAT stuff doin' here!?" Numbuh 5 was the first to speak; the other children were struck speechless by the revolting dish.
".19," Numbuh 1 said sternly, "I want an explanation, and I mean now."
"What?" .19 asked, "It's just broccoli. Slap a little butter, salt, maybe some pepper and you've got a fine compliment to the spaghetti." She sounded hurt by the rest of the team's utter rejection of her food.
"I'm sorry, Numbuh .19," 1 told her, "but we DON'T eat broccoli here."
"Well why the heck not? Geez, you all act like it's radioactive or something! Look, if you'd just try it, you'd see it's not that bad." As if to prove her hypothesis, she picked up a fork and stabbed a piece. She chewed and swallowed the hated vegetable without so much as a grimace. In fact, she actually SMILED after consumption, "Mmm, perfect amount of butter." She glanced around the table, "Now, who's gonna stop being a baby and eat some?"
The team looked from comrade to comrade, all quite fine with being babies as long as they didn't have to be the first to eat the broccoli. .19 sighed, "Fine. You know, when your parents try to make you eat broccoli and stuff like that, they only do it cuz they love you and they want the best for you. Do you know how good broccoli is for you? But hey, if you wanna go blind when you hit 60, that's your business." She loaded up her plate with some spaghetti and broccoli, and then made for the exit, stopping at the door only to say, "Someday you'll all understand," before leaving.
The children sat in silence for a moment, pondering .19's departing words, "Well, what'd she mean by THAT?" Numbuh 2 eventually wondered aloud.
"Ah dunno," 4 replied, in a bit of a daze. Had they just gotten a "talking to"? By one of their own teammates? The idea seemed impossible.
"Well," Numbuh 1 said slowly, "We must remember that she IS nearly an adult. I suppose that makes her impervious to broccoli."
"Wow," 3 murmured, "You mean that stuff actually DID taste good to her?"
"I guess so, Numbuh 3. But that doesn't make it anymore appealing to me," 1 answered, and five sets of eyes wandered over to the food in question and stayed there for a while.
"Ah still ain't eatin' it," 4 obstinately declared, "Ah dun care if 's good to a teenagah' or not."
"Me neithuh'," 5 agreed and sat back as far as she could from the bowl to emphasis her point, "Not in a million years."
"Unh-unh, not me," 3 declined right after with a wrinkled nose.
"I'll try it," 2 bravely volunteered. He grabbed his fork and quickly popped a bit into his mouth. He chewed slowly and thoroughly.
"Report, Numbuh 2," 1 requested.
"Not too bad," 2 said. The circle of children gasped, "She was right, good butter." But as he continued to chew his speculative expression changed. The corners of his mouth turned down and his eyes narrowed behind his pilot's goggles. In a matter of seconds what was left of the broccoli was in 2's napkin and the plump boy was guzzling his soda to rid himself of the taste. When he finished he slammed the empty cup onto the table and declared, "Yuck! There's NO hope for that vegetable, none at ALL! Doesn't matter HOW much butter you put on it, it's still nasty!"
The rest of the team relaxed, "Well, that settles that," 1 concluded. A feeling of relief crept into each child. They had all been slightly worried for a moment. Maybe .19 was right, and they were just so used to the fact that broccoli = bad that they'd never gave it a chance. But Numbuh 2 had valiantly sacrificed his appetite to prove .19 wrong, and they were all comforted. They ate their meal, sans green vegetables, with hardly a thought to the slighted teenager stewing behind her T marked door.
:::
The following morning Numbuh 4 was heading toward the kitchen for breakfast. He was in a cheerful mood for a reason he couldn't quite identify, and started unconsciously humming one of Numbuh 5's poppy r & b tunes. He stopped walking when he realized what he was doing and made a disgusted face. Numbuh 4 got very irritated sometimes at 5 for her all- nighter music fests she occasionally threw. They got her music stuck in his head for the next week, something he didn't enjoy in the slightest since overall he found the style unappealing. He didn't know what kind of music he WOULD find appealing- at least, not until he passed by .19's door.
He again halted his journey as the strains of a wailing electric guitar and a crashing set of drums tugged at his ears. Suddenly curious, he faced .19's door and stood listening intently. Two quiet voices, one male one female, joined the instruments, and 4 could easily detect a passion that was just barely in check in the words. The song was full of anger and pain, railing against a callous lover for their wrongs, and its furious strength captivated Numbuh 4. The small boy pushed open the door and silently entered the room.
He saw .19 sitting at her desk, bent over a small radio on its surface, singing with the same quiet but passionate voice he'd heard just outside. Eventually the song ended, and the teenager sat back from the desk with a sigh then a cry as she caught sight of Numbuh 4 sitting in a chair listening.
"4, you scared the livin' crap outta me! Don't do that again!" she put a hand to her chest and took a few breaths as the boy sat silently, "So? What the heck is it, Numbuh 4?"
"What song was that?"
She glanced back at her radio and then at him, "Oh, that?" 4 nodded, "Hoobastank, you wouldn't know them."
Numbuh 4 smiled slightly at the silly name, "Hoobastank? Ah think Ah 'ad an aunt that lived on a street with that name, back 'ome." They both laughed slightly, but 4 quieted down as he remembered the music. The strength and intensity of it had enthralled him, and he wanted to know more about it, "But really, what was that song?"
"It's called 'Running Away'," .19 said, then smiled crookedly, "You liked it?"
Numbuh 4 nodded eagerly, which made .19 smile all the more.
"Really..." she thought a moment and her eyes light up as she looked at him, "Well then, in that case, do I have some bands for you!"
"Huh?" 4 questioned as he watched .19 practically leap from her seat and start rifling through her suitcase. Eventually the teenager pulled out a circular, red case with two snaps on each end and the word discgear on one side, "What's that?"
"My CDs," .19 said proudly, and crouched next to Numbuh 4 before clicking open the case. It opened something like a filing cabinet, with slots for the thin CDs. 4 realized that she could open the other side of it to reveal a whole extra row of slots, making the case like an accordion for CDs. She started flicking through the ones on the first side. 4 watched the colorful discs flip as she ran her finger across them, titles flashing through his vision. Suddenly she stopped and pulled out one of them. It was a black CD with some symbol on the front, "This is Hoobastank's CD," she explained before handing it to him, "It's got 'Running Away' on it. Give it a listen, and then tell me about it cuz I haven't quite gotten around to it yet."
"But Ah don't have a CD player." 4 reluctantly started to hand the disc back to .19, but she stopped him.
"Oh, well, don't worry 'bout that." She went back to her suitcase and in seconds was holding out a slightly scuffed, silver CD player and earphones, "Here you go. The bass button doesn't work and neither does the volume, but it'll get the job done."
Not being a very gracious sort, Numbuh 4 eagerly grabbed the player and dashed back to his room with only hasty thanks. .19 smiled despite 4's lack of manners and went back to her radio to sing away the rest of the morning.
An hour later, Numbuh 4 had found his appealing music genre, and that was hard, fast, ear-splittingly loud rock. He didn't realize it, but the boy himself was more or less that particular music personified. Intense, loud, and deeply passionate. He was intoxicated, in love with his new discovery. Only stopping to thank .19 again and urge her to make time for the CD, he scoured his room for loose money and sprinted for the electronics store, to buy the cheapest CD player he could find, and then the music store, to buy as many CDs as possible with what was left over. The rest of the day was spent in his room, falling deeper and deeper in love with all the tones and colors of hard rock.
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A/N: Alright, folks, maybe this chapter needs a little explaining- Or maybe it doesn't. Yeah, this is my fic, and if you disagree with anything I put in here, well, that's your own damn business and you can keep your comments to yourself. **cough** Still review anyway though, please? Hey, you know what? I totally didn't plan that whole broccoli thing, it just kinda popped up. Seriously, these chapters were really only going to be Numbuh 1 and solitaire and 4 and music- that was it. Go figure. Anyway, review please and keep reading, it'll get real good soon, I swear!
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Despite Numbuh 5's comforting words and although 2's recovery was uncomplicated and quick, Numbuh 1 continued to sulk around the treehouse until late afternoon the next day, when he came across .19 playing some kind of card game on the computer. His curiosity got the better of his bitter mood and he made a small coughing noise to alert the teenager of his presence.
.19 jumped anyway, obviously having been very focused on her game, "Oh! H-hey, Numbuh 1, what's up?" She watched him as he crossed the room towards her.
The boy peered over .19's shoulder at the computerized cards, "What're you playing?" he asked.
"Solitaire," she replied, "Hope you don't mind if I installed it on these computers." She gestured to the array of screens before them, "Didn't think you'd mind."
Numbuh 1 did mind, he wasn't comfortable with the fact that apparently .19 could and would hack into their system just to put up a game, "Ask next time, alright?"
"Yeah," .19 readily complied, "definitely." She was silent a moment, "Hey, wanna learn how to play?" She pulled one of the extra desk chairs to face the screen.
1 eyed the seat for a beat before turning his eyes back on her. I must have SOMETHING better to do with my time than play a silly card game. He searched his mind, but nothing came up. He continued to watch .19 as her face changed from hopeful to persuading.
"C'mon, boss," she said, "You'll like it. I know it looks simple, but it really is a thinking-man's game. You gotta strategize. I know you'll like it."
Numbuh 1 was beginning to tire standing; he hadn't slept much at all for obvious reasons. So he wearily plopped into the offered chair, "Very well, I've got nothing better to do."
.19 smiled happily, "Cool." She turned to the screen and deleted the game she had been playing, "We'll start fresh, so I can show you how it goes." She clicked "Deal" in the game's control bar and immediately the small green screen the game was played on was populated by a stack of virtual cards in the upper left hand corner, a row of four outlined places along the upper edge, and seven increasing stacks of cards in a row along the middle of the screen.
"Okay," .19 began her instructing, "This is what you start with." She immediately started clicking on and moving certain cards. Two aces were double-clicked on and sent to the first two outlined places on the upper edge, a black four was moved onto a red five, and a red jack was moved onto a red queen. This left a blank space at the left end of the seven-strong row, as well as three extra cards to turn over. She did so, revealing a red four, a red eight, and a black seven, which was promptly moved on the red eight. The empty space made by the seven's departure was clicked on to show a red nine.
Out of moves, .19 sat back to explain her actions, "The point in solitaire is to get all the cards into their respective piles, diamond, heart, ace, or spade, in order from ace to king." She pointed at the now two outlined spaces, "The two other aces will go there, when and if they show up. You all the cards set up in order, but so that it's always a black card on a red card or red card on a black card, see?" she gestured to the black four on the red five and the black seven on the red eight, "Now, since I can't do anything else, I go to my extra pile," she moved her mouse to the pile in the corner of the screen and clicked on it. A black nine appeared beside the pile, "See, a black nine doesn't go anywhere," she motioned to the seven row, "So I've gotta click again."
She did so, and came up with nothing useful until up popped a red king. She dragged the card down to the empty space at the left corner of the seven row and also pulled the black queen and red jack to put on top of the king. Clicking on the new card left by the queen and jack, she got a red three, "Nuts, nothing," she grumbled slightly, but stayed calm and continued to play.
She played until suddenly she moved the mouse to control bar and clicked Deal. Numbuh 1 jerked from his stupor of watching her play with a look of indignation, "Hey! What'd you do that for? You just deleted that game!"
.19 looked vaguely confused at her student's passionate protest, "Chill, boss, it was a dead game," she explained calmly, "You can't save a dead game."
1 furrowed his brow, "You could've tried!"
.19 smiled and said like a mother to a petulant child, "There was nothing I could do for that game. There would've been no point in only prolonging the inevitable."
Numbuh 1 sat back in his seat with his arms crossed, "You could've tried..." he said, now only sounding tired and cross.
"Look," .19 said, rubbing a rumbling stomach, "I'm gettin' hungry. I think I'm gonna rustle us all up some dinner. You wanna take over for a bit?" she jerked her head toward the computer, and the fresh deal of solitaire cards.
1 looked up at her, his mood improving slightly at the thought of another delicious .19 meal on the way. Then his hidden eyes moved to the computer and the tempting cards, "Yes, I think I've got the gist of the game, I'll play." Oh, he would play alright, and he wouldn't just dump a game like .19 did.
"Good," the teenager said before pushing herself out of her chair, "Now, don't get hooked on it; this game can get pretty absorbing. Just stay calm and remember: it's just a game."
1 watched his new teammate leave with a raised eyebrow. How could he, of all people, get obsessed with a game? It seemed ridiculous to him, and he chuckled lightly at the thought as he started the new game.
:::
"Sweet!" 1 cried out, "Just what I needed, a red king!" He happily moved an ordered row of cards starting with a black queen onto the king, leaving a fresh card to turn. 1 relished this part of the game, when the new card could be anything. The lost ace of hearts he'd been searching for, or perhaps just a useless six of spades. There was only one way to find out-
"Aw, bloody hell!" the boy swore loudly, "A four of diamonds?! I have no use for THAT!" he groaned in frustration, "NOW what'll I do with that seven of clubs?"
"NUMBUH 1!!!" a very loud and very angry voice made the boy jump out of his seat.
"WHAT??!!" he shouted with equal heat as he clambered back into the wheeled chair.
"DINNER!!!" hollered Numbuh 4 in the doorway, "We been callin' you for fifteen minutes! What the cruddy 'eck ya' doin' in 'ere, discoverin' a cure for cancer?"
"No! I was playing a game."
4 sniffed dubiously, "Must be some game, then." He leaned his small body against the doorframe.
"Um, yes- yes it is," 1 replied, quickly deleting his game and standing up to face Numbuh 4. Something he couldn't identify told him not to share the game with his friend. He didn't know why the feeling had suddenly come over him, but he followed its instructions anyway, "So, dinner's ready, is it?"
"Yeh, come on, .19 will throw a fit if it gets cold while Ah'm pryin' you offa' that machine." He pushed himself off of the door and walked away from his leader, who stood trying to come up with a good retort to 4's burn. He came up with nothing, and so followed the other boy down the stairs toward the kitchen, feeling somehow drained enough to double his persistent lethargy.
Numbuh 4 only turned back to look at his leader again once he'd reached the bottom of the stairs, "Yeesh, Numbuh 1," the Aussie said when he'd gotten a good look at him in the light, "You look awful. Spendin' all that time in fronta' computer screen'll do that to ya'."
"I'm fine, Numbuh 4," 1 said tersely as he too reached the bottom of the stairs and walked passed 4.
"Fine, suit yourself, but don't say Ah didn't warn ya'." Now the small blonde followed 1 into the kitchen where .19 and the rest of the crew was waiting.
"Have fun?" the teenager asked Numbuh 1 as he sat down, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses. 2, 3, and 5 all eyed their leader with concern but said nothing.
"Yes, thank you," 1 said with faked energy, "What's for dinner?"
"Spaghetti!" cried Numbuh 3 happily.
"Yup," .19 smiled as she set down a large bowl of noodles, sauce, and meatballs, "And broccoli." Another bowl of the green vegetable was placed next to the first, and all five Kids Next Door recoiled in disgust.
"What is DAT stuff doin' here!?" Numbuh 5 was the first to speak; the other children were struck speechless by the revolting dish.
".19," Numbuh 1 said sternly, "I want an explanation, and I mean now."
"What?" .19 asked, "It's just broccoli. Slap a little butter, salt, maybe some pepper and you've got a fine compliment to the spaghetti." She sounded hurt by the rest of the team's utter rejection of her food.
"I'm sorry, Numbuh .19," 1 told her, "but we DON'T eat broccoli here."
"Well why the heck not? Geez, you all act like it's radioactive or something! Look, if you'd just try it, you'd see it's not that bad." As if to prove her hypothesis, she picked up a fork and stabbed a piece. She chewed and swallowed the hated vegetable without so much as a grimace. In fact, she actually SMILED after consumption, "Mmm, perfect amount of butter." She glanced around the table, "Now, who's gonna stop being a baby and eat some?"
The team looked from comrade to comrade, all quite fine with being babies as long as they didn't have to be the first to eat the broccoli. .19 sighed, "Fine. You know, when your parents try to make you eat broccoli and stuff like that, they only do it cuz they love you and they want the best for you. Do you know how good broccoli is for you? But hey, if you wanna go blind when you hit 60, that's your business." She loaded up her plate with some spaghetti and broccoli, and then made for the exit, stopping at the door only to say, "Someday you'll all understand," before leaving.
The children sat in silence for a moment, pondering .19's departing words, "Well, what'd she mean by THAT?" Numbuh 2 eventually wondered aloud.
"Ah dunno," 4 replied, in a bit of a daze. Had they just gotten a "talking to"? By one of their own teammates? The idea seemed impossible.
"Well," Numbuh 1 said slowly, "We must remember that she IS nearly an adult. I suppose that makes her impervious to broccoli."
"Wow," 3 murmured, "You mean that stuff actually DID taste good to her?"
"I guess so, Numbuh 3. But that doesn't make it anymore appealing to me," 1 answered, and five sets of eyes wandered over to the food in question and stayed there for a while.
"Ah still ain't eatin' it," 4 obstinately declared, "Ah dun care if 's good to a teenagah' or not."
"Me neithuh'," 5 agreed and sat back as far as she could from the bowl to emphasis her point, "Not in a million years."
"Unh-unh, not me," 3 declined right after with a wrinkled nose.
"I'll try it," 2 bravely volunteered. He grabbed his fork and quickly popped a bit into his mouth. He chewed slowly and thoroughly.
"Report, Numbuh 2," 1 requested.
"Not too bad," 2 said. The circle of children gasped, "She was right, good butter." But as he continued to chew his speculative expression changed. The corners of his mouth turned down and his eyes narrowed behind his pilot's goggles. In a matter of seconds what was left of the broccoli was in 2's napkin and the plump boy was guzzling his soda to rid himself of the taste. When he finished he slammed the empty cup onto the table and declared, "Yuck! There's NO hope for that vegetable, none at ALL! Doesn't matter HOW much butter you put on it, it's still nasty!"
The rest of the team relaxed, "Well, that settles that," 1 concluded. A feeling of relief crept into each child. They had all been slightly worried for a moment. Maybe .19 was right, and they were just so used to the fact that broccoli = bad that they'd never gave it a chance. But Numbuh 2 had valiantly sacrificed his appetite to prove .19 wrong, and they were all comforted. They ate their meal, sans green vegetables, with hardly a thought to the slighted teenager stewing behind her T marked door.
:::
The following morning Numbuh 4 was heading toward the kitchen for breakfast. He was in a cheerful mood for a reason he couldn't quite identify, and started unconsciously humming one of Numbuh 5's poppy r & b tunes. He stopped walking when he realized what he was doing and made a disgusted face. Numbuh 4 got very irritated sometimes at 5 for her all- nighter music fests she occasionally threw. They got her music stuck in his head for the next week, something he didn't enjoy in the slightest since overall he found the style unappealing. He didn't know what kind of music he WOULD find appealing- at least, not until he passed by .19's door.
He again halted his journey as the strains of a wailing electric guitar and a crashing set of drums tugged at his ears. Suddenly curious, he faced .19's door and stood listening intently. Two quiet voices, one male one female, joined the instruments, and 4 could easily detect a passion that was just barely in check in the words. The song was full of anger and pain, railing against a callous lover for their wrongs, and its furious strength captivated Numbuh 4. The small boy pushed open the door and silently entered the room.
He saw .19 sitting at her desk, bent over a small radio on its surface, singing with the same quiet but passionate voice he'd heard just outside. Eventually the song ended, and the teenager sat back from the desk with a sigh then a cry as she caught sight of Numbuh 4 sitting in a chair listening.
"4, you scared the livin' crap outta me! Don't do that again!" she put a hand to her chest and took a few breaths as the boy sat silently, "So? What the heck is it, Numbuh 4?"
"What song was that?"
She glanced back at her radio and then at him, "Oh, that?" 4 nodded, "Hoobastank, you wouldn't know them."
Numbuh 4 smiled slightly at the silly name, "Hoobastank? Ah think Ah 'ad an aunt that lived on a street with that name, back 'ome." They both laughed slightly, but 4 quieted down as he remembered the music. The strength and intensity of it had enthralled him, and he wanted to know more about it, "But really, what was that song?"
"It's called 'Running Away'," .19 said, then smiled crookedly, "You liked it?"
Numbuh 4 nodded eagerly, which made .19 smile all the more.
"Really..." she thought a moment and her eyes light up as she looked at him, "Well then, in that case, do I have some bands for you!"
"Huh?" 4 questioned as he watched .19 practically leap from her seat and start rifling through her suitcase. Eventually the teenager pulled out a circular, red case with two snaps on each end and the word discgear on one side, "What's that?"
"My CDs," .19 said proudly, and crouched next to Numbuh 4 before clicking open the case. It opened something like a filing cabinet, with slots for the thin CDs. 4 realized that she could open the other side of it to reveal a whole extra row of slots, making the case like an accordion for CDs. She started flicking through the ones on the first side. 4 watched the colorful discs flip as she ran her finger across them, titles flashing through his vision. Suddenly she stopped and pulled out one of them. It was a black CD with some symbol on the front, "This is Hoobastank's CD," she explained before handing it to him, "It's got 'Running Away' on it. Give it a listen, and then tell me about it cuz I haven't quite gotten around to it yet."
"But Ah don't have a CD player." 4 reluctantly started to hand the disc back to .19, but she stopped him.
"Oh, well, don't worry 'bout that." She went back to her suitcase and in seconds was holding out a slightly scuffed, silver CD player and earphones, "Here you go. The bass button doesn't work and neither does the volume, but it'll get the job done."
Not being a very gracious sort, Numbuh 4 eagerly grabbed the player and dashed back to his room with only hasty thanks. .19 smiled despite 4's lack of manners and went back to her radio to sing away the rest of the morning.
An hour later, Numbuh 4 had found his appealing music genre, and that was hard, fast, ear-splittingly loud rock. He didn't realize it, but the boy himself was more or less that particular music personified. Intense, loud, and deeply passionate. He was intoxicated, in love with his new discovery. Only stopping to thank .19 again and urge her to make time for the CD, he scoured his room for loose money and sprinted for the electronics store, to buy the cheapest CD player he could find, and then the music store, to buy as many CDs as possible with what was left over. The rest of the day was spent in his room, falling deeper and deeper in love with all the tones and colors of hard rock.
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A/N: Alright, folks, maybe this chapter needs a little explaining- Or maybe it doesn't. Yeah, this is my fic, and if you disagree with anything I put in here, well, that's your own damn business and you can keep your comments to yourself. **cough** Still review anyway though, please? Hey, you know what? I totally didn't plan that whole broccoli thing, it just kinda popped up. Seriously, these chapters were really only going to be Numbuh 1 and solitaire and 4 and music- that was it. Go figure. Anyway, review please and keep reading, it'll get real good soon, I swear!
