Author's Notes: thanks for the reviews! I hope you'll enjoy this chapter. It's been a while since the last update (and I'm going on vacation) so this one's a bit longer than usual. I hope you don't mind. It's a bit intense… tell me what you think! Happy holidays!
connection re-established
On the morning of the second day of her period, Numbuh Five woke up early, not quite relieved but resigned. She wasn't going to die. She wasn't going to have to leave the team. There was a reason she was feeling so strangely. And she'd be over it in a less than a week. It was Sunday morning and usually on Sundays, the team ate French toast. Numbuh Five felt as if she hadn't eaten in days. Time to get up. She took one of the little plastic-wrapped packets from the package her sister had given her and tucked it into the pocket of her blue dressing gown. Then, she carefully hid the package. Numbuh Five yawned, stretched, and headed to the bathroom to take a shower.
Feeling refreshed and a bit less ill-tempered, Numbuh Five adjusted her hat as she strolled into the kitchen. She was glad that no one else was awake. Even though she didn't think she'd explode at anyone today, she didn't want them questioning her about yesterday's stoniness. She poured herself a glass of orange juice but when she set it on the table, she realized that she wasn't alone. "Numbuh One," she said. "'Mornin'."
He didn't greet her but instead sat down at the table. Numbuh Five slid him her glass of juice and went to pour herself another.
"So," she said, her back to him as she poured, "have fun on your date?"
If Numbuh One was surprised that she'd known where he'd gone last night, he didn't show it. "As a matter of fact," he answered, "I didn't."
Numbuh Five didn't quite know how to respond. Newly poured glass of orange juice in hand, she joined Numbuh One at the table. "What happened, did Lizzie throw a tantrum 'cause you wouldn't hold her hand?" He was giving her an odd look. Numbuh Five should have expected it, given the words they'd exchanged yesterday. She put her glass down. "Look Numbuh One, Numbuh Five is—"
"Do you think I should give up?"
Numbuh Five was shocked into silence. She was going to apologize but she had the feeling that she and Numbuh One wanted to have two different conversations. She yielded hers to his question. "Give up? On Lizzie?"
"Do you think it would be a sound decision for me to just give up? Lately, things haven't been the same. Something isn't right." Numbuh One took a sip of his juice. "Should I give up?"
Numbuh Five was confused. It was that matter-of-fact tone of his. That clipped, British precision. He could've been talking about his relationship or he could've been talking about radishes and it would've been the same. Funny, Numbuh Five had always thought that she was good at catching the meaning behind the leader's curt words. This morning, however, she had no clue.
"What would you do? Would you just give up?"
"Why ask Numbuh Five?" She'd had enough of his taciturnity.
"Because you know me better than anyone."
What was she supposed to say to that?
"I'd also like to think that I know you, Numbuh Five. I trust your judgment. So I want you to consider this. You've had good times and bad times. You don't really want to give up but at the same time, you can't think of anything else to do. You don't want anyone to be hurt, but you're confused and you can't think of a way to solve things without walking away. So what do you do, Numbuh Five? Do you walk away? Do you give up?"
Numbuh One was staring at Numbuh Five with such an intensity that she had to look away. The craving for the taste of French toast had left her mouth. It was dry. "Hold on a minute," she said, trying to laugh away the thread of nervousness that crept into her voice. "Are we talking about Lizzie here?"
"No. We're not." Numbuh One set his glass down and left the kitchen.
The sunlight streamed into Numbuh Two's hangar/workshop/bedroom, glinting off bits of circuitry and metallic spare parts; assaulting his eyes with its insistent brightness. The world was red behind Numbuh Two's eyelids but he coaxed them open and greeted the morning with a great big yawn. He'd had a disturbing dream last night. Well, it'd started out okay… It was a dream so film noir that it'd played in black and white—he was on a case concerning a spiked shipment of lemon fizz. He was canvassing at Lime Rickey's joint when a mysterious lady sent him a drink and a tip-off—something was going down at the Lincoln house. So he went, ready to solve his case and catch his crook but when he got there, there was no lemon fizz. It was just Cree, handing Numbuh Five what looked like a suit jacket. In an instant he knew, knew it so much that he could feel it, that if Numbuh Five touched that jacket she'd be in grave danger. But he couldn't warn her. Cree slipped the jacket onto Numbuh Five's shoulders and suddenly, it began to shrink and squeeze and choke…something had woken him then. Maybe the sun. Numbuh Two rolled out of bed. It was just a dream, and as Sector V's resident gourmet, he had breakfast duty.
Numbuh Two ambled into the kitchen, rubbing the crust from the corners of his eyes. He slid his goggles back into place and the blurry image of Numbuh Five slid into focus. There was an empty glass on the table and Numbuh Five was staring at it, as if she was waiting for it to…do something.
"I think it only works with spoons, Numbuh Five."
There was an infinitesimal shudder in her shoulders. Numbuh Five reached out and grabbed the glass. She dropped it, and her own, into the sink. "Mornin'."
"Good morning," Numbuh Two said, as brightly as he could manage. He opened the refrigerator and began to transfer the ingredients he needed to the countertop. "Wanna…help me break the eggs?"
Numbuh Five shrugged, but she took an egg out of the carton.
"I guess everyone'll be up soon so we'd better get crackin'," Numbuh Two paused for effect, grinning. The smile quickly melted from his face. It was as if she hadn't even heard him. "Numbuh Five, are you all right?"
She tapped an egg against the edge of the counter and broke it over a bowl. "Numbuh Five thought so."
Numbuh Two tapped another egg against the rim of the bowl He broke the shell one-handed and let the yolk drip into the bowl. "You're feeling better than yesterday, though, right?"
"Numbuh Five was."
Numbuh Two tossed the broken shell into the garbage can. "Well, French toast always makes me feel better. You can have the first slice. You can have the first five slices if you want. Geez, I wonder why everyone's still asleep. I'm up, and I got in way later than—" He clamped his mouth shut and quickly added a measure of milk to the eggs in the bowl. "Never mind, I mean I just…got in late."
"Numbuh 78 kept you out past nine o'clock? You got to be kidding."
"Yeah," Numbuh Two laughed nervously. "Just kidding."
A piercing wail split through the relative quiet in the kitchen. It was the code red alarm. Darn it. French toast would have to wait…
Numbuh 65.3's image popped up onto the large screen of the communications console. "Urgent dispatch from Global Command! The Delightful Children are on their way to the kindergarten playground—intelligence says they plan to destroy it."
"Not another one?" Numbuh Four yelled. "Those cruddy dorks just don't quit!"
"Until they're done," Numbuh One said, his face grim. "It's under control."
Numbuh 65.3 gave Numbuh One a quick nod then ended the transmission.
Numbuh One cleared his throat. "Kids next door…battle stations!"
The team trooped into the M.O.S.Q.U.I.T.T.O.H., weapons at the ready.
"We'll need some heavy fire power, Numbuh Two. They've probably got another robot doing their dirty work."
Numbuh Two nodded from his spot at the helm. "Roger that." Within minutes, they were approaching the playground where they could see the Delightfuls' latest weapon of mass destruction snapping the metal bars of the jungle gym like twigs.
The team had come prepared wearing jet-powered footwear. They disembarked while Numbuh Two held position, hovering over the playground.
"Well, if it isn't the Kids Next Door," said the Delightful Children From Down The Lane, in that creepy, perfect unison. "Have you come to help us with our…renovations?"
"No, we're here to kick your butts!" Numbuh Four charged forth, aiming his C.H.E.E.Z.O.O.K.A.. "Run along now, Delightful dorks! You don't wanna be late for Sunday School!"
"Oh, Wallabee, surely you wouldn't presume to tell us about being late for school," the quintet intoned. Their robot paused in its destruction. "Looks like we'll have to give you a detention!"
"Numbuh Four!" Numbuh Three screamed as the robot flung a net. Numbuh Five swung down from the swings and grabbed Numbuh Four by his hood before the net could capture him.
"Sorry, suckers!" Numbuh Four blew a raspberry. "I don't stay after school."
The robot decided to ignore Numbuh Four and instead, swung its mallet fist at Numbuh Three. She screamed and dropped her T.H.U.M.P.E.R. as she ran.
"Numbuh Three!" the team yelled. The Delightful Children cackled as they watched their robot systematically crush, uproot, and dislodge every playground apparatus Numbuh Three ran to to take cover. Soon, the playground was leveled.
"Kids next door!" Numbuh One, now hoarse, called. "Retreat!"
Numbuh Four skidded to a halt and whirled around. "What?"
"That's an order, Numbuh Four! Retreat!"
Numbuh Four groaned. Retreat from the cruddy Delightful dorks? What was Numbuh One thinking? He began to back away from the playground with the rest of the team. But then, he noticed something odd. An eye dialogue passed between Numbuh One and Numbuh Five and in an instant, she'd flipped back onto the playground, right in the path of the robot. He was going to call out but then, the sun glinted off of something in her hand and he understood. Numbuh Five tossed the small glass ball under the foot of the robot and used her shoes to propel herself onto the limb of a nearby tree. The robot stepped, the glass crushed, and the robot exploded. Numbuh Four noticed a curious smirk on Numbuh One's face.
"Look what you've done! You've destroyed our robot." The Delightful Children folded their arms. "Oh well. Father will give us another." Seemingly out of nowhere, a conveyance appeared and the Delightfuls clamored into it. "See you soon, Kids Next Dumb. Oh, and Abigail," they paused, and the team all looked at Numbuh Five."Yeah?"
"Congratulations on becoming a woman."
There was a dull thud as Numbuh Five hit the ground.
transmission interrupted