TS: FUN! Fun fun fun fun fun!
#1: Ok, ok. I get the point.
TS: I'm so HAPPY!
#1: ....... *punches TS on the nose, making a sound very much like kersplat* Ok, tell me, will you shut up now?
TS: *grins stupidly* Kersplat!
#1: oh, mother...
Author's Note: I wrote this before I actually saw most of the KND eps. I think I actually started writing it after I saw P.I.R.A.T.E, which was the first one I ever saw and was when I thought there were only five operatives, not a global organisation. Thus Numbuhs 6-10. I won't change them, but I know of my mistake and do not need you to inform me of my errors.
~
Numbuh One was an early riser by nature, but this particular morning he was woken not by dawn birdsong, but by a heavy knocking on his door.
"Numbuh One," came the concerned voice of Numbuh Four, "you want breakfast?"
"What time is it?" was Numbuh One's sleepy reply.
"Ten."
The British boy came awake with a jolt.
"Ten? All ready? Why didn't you wake me?" He asked indignantly, leaping out of bed and getting ready for breakfast. He heard the Australian chuckle.
"Relax, Numbuh One, we've only just got up ourselves. I thought I'd wake you cause you're usually up before us."
The door opened in front of the Australian, revealing a tired looking Numbuh One, who walked down the corridor with his teammate.
True to Numbuh Four's word, the rest of the team were sleepy-eyed, almost like zombies as they automatically prepared themselves breakfast. Only Triple-Six was absent, but no one though much of it.
Breakfast progressed slowly, the only thing of interest was when Numbuh Three spilt milk on the floor. Minutes ticked by and still there was no sign of Triple-Six. Numbuh One became increasingly worried. What if he had scared her away by his actions last night?
"Has anyone seen Triple-Six this morning?" He asked, keeping his voice carefully blank. The response was negative, the elusive Irish agent remaining unaccounted for.
"Maybe she's still sleeping?" Numbuh Three suggested, pointing up the stairs. Numbuh One nodded doubtfully.
"Let's go check."
The door to Triple-Six's room was slightly ajar. Numbuh Five pushed it open cautiously, somersaulting in and training a homemade weapon on the room. Seeing the coast clear, she signalled for the others to come in.
The room was deserted. Some of Triple-Six's things were scattered across the floor and Numbuh Four picked his way through them uneasily, making his way to the centre of the room.
"Anything?" Numbuh One called out to his friends, each of who were examining different parts of the room.
"Nope."
"No."
"Nothing."
"Hold on," came the muffled voice of Numbuh Two from under the bed. "I found something!"
The 'something' turned out to be a crude note, written in Triple-Six's scrawled handwriting. It read: 'Dnt wry gn 2 c #s 6 8 & 10.' Numbuh One squinted at it.
"What do you suppose it means?" He asked his friends. Numbuh Five smirked.
"Are you all blind? It says 'Don't worry, gone to see Numbuhs 6, 8 and 10.' Triple-Six must have been in a hurry and scribbled it out before she went."
"Well..." Numbuh One breathed a sigh of relief. "At least we know she's safe. She can take care of herself out there." He subconsciously rubbed his neck, where the bruises from his recent ordeal stood out prominent and dark.
~
Triple Six walked down the main street of the suburbs, enjoying the feeling of the brisk morning air against her face. She had her hood down and, contrary to what Numbuh One had seen, her hair was not brown and blonde, instead a orange-red, with streaks of blonde through. Outwardly she appeared happy and carefree, but inwardly she was tense and confused.
She was still puzzling about the previous night. She didn't know what had possessed Numbuh One to act like he did. He was usually a quiet, taciturn sort of fellow, not given to extrovert revelations of his feelings, which he was usually brilliant at disguising in emotionless eyes behind dark glasses.
However, it was not the fact that he had kissed her that scared her most. It was the fact that she had enjoyed it. After she had ran back to her room, she had silently cursed herself for breaking away from him. And she knew that her actions as well as his must have plunged him into an emotional dilemma. He would be feeling scared and confused, just as she was.
A birdcall from in front of her brought her back from her mixed emotions into the immediate reality. She clasped her hands and blew into them, returning the call.
"Who goes? State your name and business!" A threatening voice from ahead of her shouted.
"Triple Six of the Kids Next Door. Numbuh Six, stop acting macho. I know you. If you hurt a fly it would be on your conscience for the rest of your life."
A young Jamaican boy with shoulder-length dreadlocks came out of the shadows. He was dressed in cargo shorts and an open jerkin that revealed his bare and skinny chest, and was sporting a grin so wide it looked as though the top of his head was in danger of falling off.
"You're right there, Triple Six. You'll be here about Seven and Nine, I guess?" Triple Six nodded the affirmative. "C'mon then, I'll show you to the den."
The den turned out to be an abandoned cellar. The entrance that opened on to the street was cleverly disguised to look like a disused coal trap, and Triple Six was a bit nervous about going in.
"Er... are y'sure that this is the right coal trap, mate? I don't want to be burned in someone's fire, y'know."
"Relax! I know these streets like the back of my hand. This is the right one all right. C'mon, the others are waiting down there for you." Numbuh Six grinned and leapt into the trap while Triple Six was holding the wooden trapdoor open for him. The Irish girl took a deep breath and plunged in after him.
After what seemed an eternity of sliding down a metal slope, she tumbled out into a bale of straw at the bottom. Regaining her sense of direction, she fought her way to the surface and looked around into the friendly face of Numbuh Six. A boy of similar age with scruffy blonde hair and a deadpan expression stood behind him.
"This is Numbuh Ten. I don't think you guys have met?" Numbuh Six asked. Triple Six smiled, but Numbuh Ten merely nodded once. As Numbuh Six, the blonde boy was wearing cargo shorts but instead of a jerkin like his Jamaican counterpart he wore a polo neck jumper.
An impatient sigh from the corner alerted Triple Six to another occupant of the cellar. A pale, tired-looking girl dressed all in black was fiddling with a small homemade radio transmitter. She gave another sigh of frustration and flicked her black hair out of her face, tapping one of the earpieces on the headset she wore.
"Oh, that's Numbuh Eight. You won't get much sense out of her at the moment. She's got a busy schedule." Numbuh Six told her.
"Tough living here, is it?" Triple Six asked, not taking her eyes off Numbuh Eight.
"No, she lives here by choice. I mean she's always busy. She's part of Ground Patrol."
Triple Six turned to face the Jamaican.
"Ground Patrol? You mean THE Ground Patrol? OUR Ground Patrol? But... but... that's really high ranking! That comes in just below Top Brass, like Numbuh 362! My god..."
"Yeah, that's what I thought when she turned up... apparently she's round this way to keep an eye over Subsection B27. Any bases round here radio her if the want arrivals or departures from MoonBase. Now y'know why she's so busy?"
Triple Six nodded as Numbuh Six continued.
"Wanna know why she's all in black? Well, I'll tell you. Me 'n' Numbuh Ten call her Quicksilver. Quick-finger-silver-tongue is much too long, so we just call her Quicksilver, occasionally Numbuh Eight. Quick-finger is her handle coz she nicks all our stuff for us, money, food, clothes, you name it, and Silver-tongue coz she can talk her way out of it if she gets caught. She wears black so she don't get caught."
Triple Six and Numbuh Six looked again at Numbuh Eight, who was now talking into her headset.
"That's affirmative, Numbuh 721. Your lift off will proceed in 10... 9... 8... 7... 6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1..." She said in a monotone voice.
"That's another thing. She provides all the countdowns an' all. She never takes that headset off, or at least I never seen her."
The Ground Patrol operative walked calmly over and shook hands with Triple Six.
"Triple Six, right? You'll be here to sort out the thing about the disappearing kids. I guess you want some details, huh?"
Triple Six nodded. Suddenly the radio set blared into life.
"Calling Ground Patrol... calling Ground Patrol... Ground Patrol sector B, do you receive?"
"Damn!" Numbuh Eight cursed. "Numbuh Six, fill her in!" She rushed back over to the radio. "Ground Patrol receiving, awaiting statement."
Numbuh Six glanced after her sadly.
"It never ends, it doesn't. That radio's always going off apart from when it's broke and then she spends all her time fixing it."
Triple Six coughed politely.
"Oh, yes. Well, I'm not really the one to be telling you. It should have fallen to Numbuh Seven or Numbuh Nine, but... they've both gone too... Quicksilver tried to contact them but they won't reply... anyway, I digress. It started when one of Numbuh Ten's mates didn't come round for a briefing. Then another guy disappeared. Then Numbuh Seven told us her friend had gone. Then Numbuh Seven herself went missing. Numbuh Nine went to look for her and then he never cam back."
"You mentioned Numbuh Eight's radio messages to them. Surely they should have received the transmission? The Kids Next Door have signal intercept towers in every country in the world, even one at MoonBase. There is no way they cannot have got the signal!" Triple Six intervened.
"Exactly. Which means that they are otherwise incapacitated. It's got us all stressed out. No one knows what to do. I hope you can help?"
"Well, that's why I'm here, though I suggest you don't stay here anymore. From this all I can say is that as long as you are here you are under constant threat. Why not come back to the treehouse I'm lodging in?"
"Treehouse?" Numbuh Eight looked up sharply. "Which treehouse?"
"Um... Subsection B27... that would be... Firefly. Code Firefly." The Irish agent hesitated as she tried to recall the codename of the treehouse.
"Firefly?" Numbuh Ten spoke for the first time. He had been lurking in the corner, watching every move. Triple Six had hardly noticed him. "That's the one with that cute little Japanese girl, isn't it?"
"Numbuh Three?" Triple Six replied coldly. "Yes, but you will be going there on business terms, not to socialise."
"Maybe you should practise what you preach, Triple Six." He replied in the same cold voice, the deadpan expression still on his face. Triple Six was glad of the hood, as her cheeks burned red.
*how does he know about that?... no... he must have guessed... he can't know...* She thought to herself.
Numbuh Eight packed up her radio decisively in the awkward silence that had fallen on the room.
"I for one am not going to stay in this dump while treehouse Firefly is on offer, thank you very much!" She said, walking towards the door. Numbuh Six jumped up and followed her.
"Ok, Quicksilver. Coming, guys?"
Triple Six followed her two fellow operatives, with Numbuh Ten bringing up the rear. Though she could not see him, she could still feel his blank, emotionless eyes boring into the back of her skull. It gave her the impression that he was reading her mind.
In all honesty, she believed he was.
#1: Ok, ok. I get the point.
TS: I'm so HAPPY!
#1: ....... *punches TS on the nose, making a sound very much like kersplat* Ok, tell me, will you shut up now?
TS: *grins stupidly* Kersplat!
#1: oh, mother...
Author's Note: I wrote this before I actually saw most of the KND eps. I think I actually started writing it after I saw P.I.R.A.T.E, which was the first one I ever saw and was when I thought there were only five operatives, not a global organisation. Thus Numbuhs 6-10. I won't change them, but I know of my mistake and do not need you to inform me of my errors.
~
Numbuh One was an early riser by nature, but this particular morning he was woken not by dawn birdsong, but by a heavy knocking on his door.
"Numbuh One," came the concerned voice of Numbuh Four, "you want breakfast?"
"What time is it?" was Numbuh One's sleepy reply.
"Ten."
The British boy came awake with a jolt.
"Ten? All ready? Why didn't you wake me?" He asked indignantly, leaping out of bed and getting ready for breakfast. He heard the Australian chuckle.
"Relax, Numbuh One, we've only just got up ourselves. I thought I'd wake you cause you're usually up before us."
The door opened in front of the Australian, revealing a tired looking Numbuh One, who walked down the corridor with his teammate.
True to Numbuh Four's word, the rest of the team were sleepy-eyed, almost like zombies as they automatically prepared themselves breakfast. Only Triple-Six was absent, but no one though much of it.
Breakfast progressed slowly, the only thing of interest was when Numbuh Three spilt milk on the floor. Minutes ticked by and still there was no sign of Triple-Six. Numbuh One became increasingly worried. What if he had scared her away by his actions last night?
"Has anyone seen Triple-Six this morning?" He asked, keeping his voice carefully blank. The response was negative, the elusive Irish agent remaining unaccounted for.
"Maybe she's still sleeping?" Numbuh Three suggested, pointing up the stairs. Numbuh One nodded doubtfully.
"Let's go check."
The door to Triple-Six's room was slightly ajar. Numbuh Five pushed it open cautiously, somersaulting in and training a homemade weapon on the room. Seeing the coast clear, she signalled for the others to come in.
The room was deserted. Some of Triple-Six's things were scattered across the floor and Numbuh Four picked his way through them uneasily, making his way to the centre of the room.
"Anything?" Numbuh One called out to his friends, each of who were examining different parts of the room.
"Nope."
"No."
"Nothing."
"Hold on," came the muffled voice of Numbuh Two from under the bed. "I found something!"
The 'something' turned out to be a crude note, written in Triple-Six's scrawled handwriting. It read: 'Dnt wry gn 2 c #s 6 8 & 10.' Numbuh One squinted at it.
"What do you suppose it means?" He asked his friends. Numbuh Five smirked.
"Are you all blind? It says 'Don't worry, gone to see Numbuhs 6, 8 and 10.' Triple-Six must have been in a hurry and scribbled it out before she went."
"Well..." Numbuh One breathed a sigh of relief. "At least we know she's safe. She can take care of herself out there." He subconsciously rubbed his neck, where the bruises from his recent ordeal stood out prominent and dark.
~
Triple Six walked down the main street of the suburbs, enjoying the feeling of the brisk morning air against her face. She had her hood down and, contrary to what Numbuh One had seen, her hair was not brown and blonde, instead a orange-red, with streaks of blonde through. Outwardly she appeared happy and carefree, but inwardly she was tense and confused.
She was still puzzling about the previous night. She didn't know what had possessed Numbuh One to act like he did. He was usually a quiet, taciturn sort of fellow, not given to extrovert revelations of his feelings, which he was usually brilliant at disguising in emotionless eyes behind dark glasses.
However, it was not the fact that he had kissed her that scared her most. It was the fact that she had enjoyed it. After she had ran back to her room, she had silently cursed herself for breaking away from him. And she knew that her actions as well as his must have plunged him into an emotional dilemma. He would be feeling scared and confused, just as she was.
A birdcall from in front of her brought her back from her mixed emotions into the immediate reality. She clasped her hands and blew into them, returning the call.
"Who goes? State your name and business!" A threatening voice from ahead of her shouted.
"Triple Six of the Kids Next Door. Numbuh Six, stop acting macho. I know you. If you hurt a fly it would be on your conscience for the rest of your life."
A young Jamaican boy with shoulder-length dreadlocks came out of the shadows. He was dressed in cargo shorts and an open jerkin that revealed his bare and skinny chest, and was sporting a grin so wide it looked as though the top of his head was in danger of falling off.
"You're right there, Triple Six. You'll be here about Seven and Nine, I guess?" Triple Six nodded the affirmative. "C'mon then, I'll show you to the den."
The den turned out to be an abandoned cellar. The entrance that opened on to the street was cleverly disguised to look like a disused coal trap, and Triple Six was a bit nervous about going in.
"Er... are y'sure that this is the right coal trap, mate? I don't want to be burned in someone's fire, y'know."
"Relax! I know these streets like the back of my hand. This is the right one all right. C'mon, the others are waiting down there for you." Numbuh Six grinned and leapt into the trap while Triple Six was holding the wooden trapdoor open for him. The Irish girl took a deep breath and plunged in after him.
After what seemed an eternity of sliding down a metal slope, she tumbled out into a bale of straw at the bottom. Regaining her sense of direction, she fought her way to the surface and looked around into the friendly face of Numbuh Six. A boy of similar age with scruffy blonde hair and a deadpan expression stood behind him.
"This is Numbuh Ten. I don't think you guys have met?" Numbuh Six asked. Triple Six smiled, but Numbuh Ten merely nodded once. As Numbuh Six, the blonde boy was wearing cargo shorts but instead of a jerkin like his Jamaican counterpart he wore a polo neck jumper.
An impatient sigh from the corner alerted Triple Six to another occupant of the cellar. A pale, tired-looking girl dressed all in black was fiddling with a small homemade radio transmitter. She gave another sigh of frustration and flicked her black hair out of her face, tapping one of the earpieces on the headset she wore.
"Oh, that's Numbuh Eight. You won't get much sense out of her at the moment. She's got a busy schedule." Numbuh Six told her.
"Tough living here, is it?" Triple Six asked, not taking her eyes off Numbuh Eight.
"No, she lives here by choice. I mean she's always busy. She's part of Ground Patrol."
Triple Six turned to face the Jamaican.
"Ground Patrol? You mean THE Ground Patrol? OUR Ground Patrol? But... but... that's really high ranking! That comes in just below Top Brass, like Numbuh 362! My god..."
"Yeah, that's what I thought when she turned up... apparently she's round this way to keep an eye over Subsection B27. Any bases round here radio her if the want arrivals or departures from MoonBase. Now y'know why she's so busy?"
Triple Six nodded as Numbuh Six continued.
"Wanna know why she's all in black? Well, I'll tell you. Me 'n' Numbuh Ten call her Quicksilver. Quick-finger-silver-tongue is much too long, so we just call her Quicksilver, occasionally Numbuh Eight. Quick-finger is her handle coz she nicks all our stuff for us, money, food, clothes, you name it, and Silver-tongue coz she can talk her way out of it if she gets caught. She wears black so she don't get caught."
Triple Six and Numbuh Six looked again at Numbuh Eight, who was now talking into her headset.
"That's affirmative, Numbuh 721. Your lift off will proceed in 10... 9... 8... 7... 6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1..." She said in a monotone voice.
"That's another thing. She provides all the countdowns an' all. She never takes that headset off, or at least I never seen her."
The Ground Patrol operative walked calmly over and shook hands with Triple Six.
"Triple Six, right? You'll be here to sort out the thing about the disappearing kids. I guess you want some details, huh?"
Triple Six nodded. Suddenly the radio set blared into life.
"Calling Ground Patrol... calling Ground Patrol... Ground Patrol sector B, do you receive?"
"Damn!" Numbuh Eight cursed. "Numbuh Six, fill her in!" She rushed back over to the radio. "Ground Patrol receiving, awaiting statement."
Numbuh Six glanced after her sadly.
"It never ends, it doesn't. That radio's always going off apart from when it's broke and then she spends all her time fixing it."
Triple Six coughed politely.
"Oh, yes. Well, I'm not really the one to be telling you. It should have fallen to Numbuh Seven or Numbuh Nine, but... they've both gone too... Quicksilver tried to contact them but they won't reply... anyway, I digress. It started when one of Numbuh Ten's mates didn't come round for a briefing. Then another guy disappeared. Then Numbuh Seven told us her friend had gone. Then Numbuh Seven herself went missing. Numbuh Nine went to look for her and then he never cam back."
"You mentioned Numbuh Eight's radio messages to them. Surely they should have received the transmission? The Kids Next Door have signal intercept towers in every country in the world, even one at MoonBase. There is no way they cannot have got the signal!" Triple Six intervened.
"Exactly. Which means that they are otherwise incapacitated. It's got us all stressed out. No one knows what to do. I hope you can help?"
"Well, that's why I'm here, though I suggest you don't stay here anymore. From this all I can say is that as long as you are here you are under constant threat. Why not come back to the treehouse I'm lodging in?"
"Treehouse?" Numbuh Eight looked up sharply. "Which treehouse?"
"Um... Subsection B27... that would be... Firefly. Code Firefly." The Irish agent hesitated as she tried to recall the codename of the treehouse.
"Firefly?" Numbuh Ten spoke for the first time. He had been lurking in the corner, watching every move. Triple Six had hardly noticed him. "That's the one with that cute little Japanese girl, isn't it?"
"Numbuh Three?" Triple Six replied coldly. "Yes, but you will be going there on business terms, not to socialise."
"Maybe you should practise what you preach, Triple Six." He replied in the same cold voice, the deadpan expression still on his face. Triple Six was glad of the hood, as her cheeks burned red.
*how does he know about that?... no... he must have guessed... he can't know...* She thought to herself.
Numbuh Eight packed up her radio decisively in the awkward silence that had fallen on the room.
"I for one am not going to stay in this dump while treehouse Firefly is on offer, thank you very much!" She said, walking towards the door. Numbuh Six jumped up and followed her.
"Ok, Quicksilver. Coming, guys?"
Triple Six followed her two fellow operatives, with Numbuh Ten bringing up the rear. Though she could not see him, she could still feel his blank, emotionless eyes boring into the back of her skull. It gave her the impression that he was reading her mind.
In all honesty, she believed he was.