7 February 2003Normal people would be asleep at 5 o'clock in the morning………………but not me! Nope, I'm working on my story. Oh well. Not that I need sleep anyway. Besides, no matter what I wish, I've stopped growing. I would rather work on this anyway next chappie for all you readers, instead of lying in bed staring at the ceiling, getting nothing done.

8 February 2003 Lesse…………………Um………Well, I saw the episode of Codename: Kids Next Door last night. Numbuh 274 was cool!!! As Numbuh 4 put it, though, "His parents are freaks!" Anyway, me thinks I might stick him in this story sometime. Whatcha'll think?

Continuing Transmission

Numbuh 1 paced around in his room, reading and rereading the sheet of paper he held in his hand. "I don't understand," he muttered to himself. "Everything is just as it said it should be. And yet that discotheque wasn't a secret lab, and those adults weren't making a kid-torture device."

He thought about if for a minute. "Well, I suppose that would be a good thing in any case, but still…" His eyes reread each line carefully, making sure not to miss any important detail that was possibly overlooked before. "This is the fifth time that something like this has happened. I don't understand. I wish I knew who was sending this information, but they choose to remain anonymous. I can't tell the others that, though, otherwise they'd slaughter me."

Sitting on his bed, Numbuh 1 placed the piece of paper down next to him, removing his thick sunglasses and rubbing his eyes. "If I tried to talk to them, though, they probably wouldn't even hear me. If they did, they probably wouldn't even care."

After the so-called mission that night, the others seemed to be angry at being made fools of…again. Numbuh 1 couldn't blame them, really. He felt just as ashamed as they did, and he hated it. But did they have to be mad at him?

He supposed they could be. After all, he was the leader of the Kids Next Door, and for every failure made, he was somehow responsible. He was the one who led them on these missions, and it was based on the information that he had received. "But why?" he wondered aloud. "Why am I getting all this false information? Who is sending it? And, if none of the information that they're sending is true, then what could they possibly want?"

Replacing his sunglasses over his eyes, he paced the floor again, trying hard to think. 'Think, Nigel. What could be going on?' His thoughts churned over the possibilities, but in the end, there was no result.

He sighed, the conclusion hitting him hard. He had no idea what was going on. 'Some leader you are, Nigel Uno,' he chastised. 'No wonder the others are ignoring you right now.' The days following the 'mission', Numbuh 1 found it increasingly harder and harder to get the other Kids to listen to him. If he was trying to call their attention, they would just continue doing whatever they were doing.

'So what are you going to do now?' he asked himself. Of course, he had no answer. He felt so angry at himself for being so clueless. He sighed, frustrated, as he began to pace around the room again.

He felt so restless. He just couldn't seem to be able to sit still at that moment. The anger and helplessness in him fueled the agitation burning within. But times such as these were what caused such sleepless nights the past few days. 'It's going to be one of those nights,' he told himself. Luckily, he was able to keep his tired eyes behind the sunglasses, otherwise the others might notice.

Or they might not. He wasn't sure. But as a leader, he wasn't supposed to show signs of weakness. If he did, what would the other Kids think about him? And, if the leader of the Kids Next Door seemed vulnerable, what would others think about their team?

He stopped pacing around after he felt the room begin to spin. As soon as he did stop pacing, the room stopped spinning. 'Well, that wasn't good. I suppose not sleeping for too long is beginning to take its toll on me.'

There was a small growl coming from his midriff section. Looking at his watch, he realized what time it was. 'I didn't realize it was so late.'

Leaving his room, Numbuh 1 walked down the familiar corridors of the tree house. He entered the recreational room, where the others were already were. Numbuhs 2 and 4 were beating each other senselessly on a video game while Numbuhs 3 and 5 were on the couch, reading magazines.

Numbuh 1 cleared his throat loudly, hoping to get their attention. But the others just continued with what they were doing. He tried again, but was met with the same results as before.

He sighed. "Fine," he said. "I know you're all listening, and I know you all know that it's time for dinner. Does anyone know who's turn it is get dinner?"

"Your turn," they all said dully, not stopping what they were doing.

"Are you all sure? Because I thought…"

"Your turn," they repeated, just as dully.

"Fine," he replied, somewhat agitated. "What do you all want?"

"Pizza," they said, same as before.

He growled slightly, unhappy with the response he was getting from them. Turning heel, he walked out of that room, and down the many stairs until he found himself outside, walking down the street to buy pizza for them.

"Well, at least this way I can get out," he muttered to himself. "Maybe later, I won't be as restless as before."

Not paying attention to where he was walking, he didn't notice the piece of concrete protruding out of the curb. He yelped as he tripped, his sunglasses flying off his face.

"Wonderful. I don't need this now." Picking himself off the ground, he brushed the dust off his shirt, dusting himself off. Looking around at the ground, Numbuh 1 discovered that his sunglasses weren't where he thought they would be. As he continued to look at the ground, however, he discovered some pairs of feet standing some distance in away from him.

His eyes trailed upwards, and he groaned inwardly when he saw who was there in front of him. "The Delightful Children from Down the Lane," he all but spat.

"Good day, Nigel," they all said, monotonously. Numbuh 1 nearly cringed, but caught himself from doing so. Though he would never let anyone, especially not them, know about this, the Delightful Children from Down the Lane creeped him out. The way they talked, always together, at the same time…It was like they had no personality, no freedom of their own. They always acted as a unit, never as individual people. And the sound of their voices…even when they were angry, they never showed emotion. It was almost like they were less than human.

They all moved towards him, once again, like a unit. Numbuh 1 didn't move, but he felt his body tense up as he kept his defenses up. He was never sure what the Delightful Children were up to, but it was never good.

The blond girl who usually seemed standing up front suddenly held her arm out. In her hand were his thick, black sunglasses.

"I believe you dropped something, Nigel," they said, still monotonously.

An eyebrow cocked up in question. He took the glasses from them, but hesitated in putting them on. One time, Numbuh 5 left her hat behind when she was infiltrating the Delightful Children's mansion, she got it back, but they Delightful Children had left a little 'surprise' for them in the hat.

But there wasn't really much one could do with sunglasses, was there?

"What do you want?" Numbuh 1 asked them.

"Just to return your sunglasses, Nigel."

"Do you expect me to believe that?"

"There's no use for pointless fighting today, Nigel. I have no plans for today. And besides, if we did fight, you would be outnumbered."

Numbuh 1 smirked. "Well, you're right about one thing. There is no use for fighting today. There is no need waste all of our energy in a pointless battle."

"Indeed. Such energy should be conserved for a real fight."

After carefully inspecting his sunglasses, Numbuh 1 deemed it safe enough to actually put them on. Looking at the Delightful Children, he walked past them, not bothering to say anything else.

The Delightful Children watched as Numbuh 1 walked away, until he disappeared around the corner. When he was totally gone, they began to laugh their cruel, monotonous chuckle.

Transmission Interrupted

Wow, a chapter finished in two days. Never would have thought it could be done for me. Well, I hope you enjoyed. I know it's kinda short, but if you review nicely, I'll put out as much as I can, and update as soon as I can.

M L Europe I understand what you're saying, and in some cases you're right. But I kinda like trying to spell their accents out. It's kinda fun.

Oh, I might also want to point out that the Kids Next Door are 11 here. In the show, I think they're only 10. So……………yea.

Cya next time!!!