Cree snuck into her sister's room and crept towards the bed. There her little sister slept soundly. Cree smiled at her. She even wore that hat in her sleep.

Cree reached out and touched Abby's shoulder. "Wake up." She shook the shoulder slightly.

She grumbled slightly and rolled onto her back. "Hm? What is it? Numbuh Five was dreaming about candy…."

"Abby, listen to me. You know what day it is tomorrow, don't you?"

Her little sister finally opened her eyes to look at her. "Yeah, sis. It's your birthday."

"My thirteenth birthday." Abby was silent so Cree continued, "They're going to decommission me. You…know what that means, don't you?"

The young girl focused her solemn eyes on her older sibling. "It means you can't be a Kids Next Door operative anymore."

"Not only that. They're going to erase my memories of ever being an operative. I won't remember all the time we've spent together in Sector V."

Cree watched sadness set into her sister's face. She was still only a child, but she understood all too well the ramifications of this. She sat up.

Cree's face became serious, the way it did when she gave orders as Sector leader. "But listen. If we leave now, both of us, they'll never be able to catch us."

"What?"

"We're the best of the best, they'd never defeat us, not if we're together."

Numbuh Five continued to stare dumbfounded at her sister.

"We would have to leave the Kids Next Door, but at least we'll be together, and both our memories would be intact."

"But…Numbuh Eleven," Abby quavered.

"Don't look like that, it won't be so bad. There's no other way. Abby, please. Come with me. Let's go. Now." She reached out and grabbed her little sister by the wrist and attempted to pull her from bed.

Abby resisted, shaking her head in a tight, small shake.

"Just grab some stuff, just enough for a week or so. We'll come back later, it's not like we're running away from home, I've already written a note to Dad."

Numbuh Five started shaking her head more violently.

"Don't just sit there, Abby—"

"No!" she finally shouted, yanking her arm free.

Cree gaped at her little sister. "No…? 'No' what?"

"No," she repeated in a steadier voice. "I'm not going, Cree."

The older girl just stared at the other for a long while, opening and closing her mouth, stuck at the point of starting a sentence and never quite making it. "What?" she finally managed.

"I'm staying."

Cree's shock was apparent in every fiber of her being. The way she stood, half-bent over Abby's bed, frozen in place, expression locked with wide eyes and questioning brows.

"Why?"

Numbuh Five clenched her blanket in her small fists, squeezing her eyes shut and shaking her head once more. "I'm staying," she repeated, but her voice was small and strangled.

Finally movement was restored to Cree. She took in a great, shuddering breath as she stared at her small sister. "Fine," she managed to choke out before turning and running from the room. She ran to her own, flinging open the door and grabbing the already packed suitcase that lay waiting on her bed. Then she plunged out the window, activating her jet boots, and flew off into the dark night.

She didn't look back.

Again the memory faded to black, and Cree, as she was now, a teenager, found herself running. Or chasing, rather. Who was she chasing? Abby—it was her, she recognized the hat. Her little sister, dearer to her than anything in the world, was running away from her, farther and farther until she disappeared in the darkness.

Cree stopped, her energy spent, and cried over her loss.

But again from behind her came a warm presence who first gently touched her shoulder then enveloped her in a loving embrace. She took in the feeling, and her tears dried. But just as she started to wonder who it was that was holding her, just before she turned around, the dream was over and she woke in her bed.

---

Walking home from school, Numbuh Five heard hurried footsteps behind her, which slowed to keep pace with her once they were within reach.

She didn't turn around. She had an idea who it was.

"Abby," Maurice said.

She was right. "Yeah?" she replied without turning to face him.

"Abby, I need your advice. I don't know if I can do this anymore."

"Do what?" she asked in an even voice.

"This. Abby—" he reached out to take her hand, but she pulled it away. She did, however, finally turn to face him. Her expression was almost stern.

"You never used to call me Abby. Now you call me nothing but."

He stared at her, thrown off by this statement. "I…" he searched for the words, suddenly clumsy now that he was met by her unyielding countenance and strange comments. "I hate pretending to date Cree," he finally said.

"You're not pretending to date her. You are dating her. The only thing open to question is how you feel about her."

This wasn't going the way he had hoped it would at all. Why is Abby being so cold?

"You don't actually think that I like—"

"I'm just laying it out straight. You go out together. You hug, you kiss, you hold hands. You're dating. There's nothing pretend about that."

"Why are you suddenly so interested in stating the facts?"

"You're the one who brought it up."

"I brought it up because I hate it." He couldn't hide the bitterness or even the anger in his voice. But by then he couldn't tell if he was angry at his situation, or if he was angry at Abby.

"Then quit."

"Quit…?" It took him a while before he absorbed the word. For a moment—a brief one—he thought of how things might be if he did leave. But his loyalty had been to the Kids Next Door Organization for most of his life. I can't leave now, not after everything. What would I do? He wasn't like Chad, who had ten million clubs and sports teams and everything. The Kids Next Door was his life. All his friends were operatives. It was hard enough when he turned thirteen and he thought he was going to lose everything. He couldn't go through that again. If he left now, he'd be really decommissioned this time, and he'd have nothing.

"No, I can't do that. I can't quit." He no longer sounded angry, just dejected.

"Then what do you want me to say?"

"I want…." He moved closer to her. "I want you to say that you--"

"What's going on here!"

They both turned to see Cree rushing at Abby, looking furious, her battle armor folding on.

---

Hovering several feet above the ground, Chad aimed his laser at Numbuh One's bald, shiny head. That cue ball made such a clear target. But before he could fire, mustard splattered and gummed up his weapon. He frowned and shook off as much of the stuff as possible. The smell reminded him that he hadn't gotten the chance to eat lunch that day. In fact, this whole battle was impromptu—he had to miss drama club because of this, and would probably miss his violin lesson as well. Fighting the stupid Kids Next Door was getting really inconvenient.

Chad wasn't even sure why the battle started. He was just leaving History class when Cree contacted him, demanding he provide backup immediately. He didn't even get a chance to unload his textbooks, and they were weighing him down. Well, at least that would be his excuse for his lackluster performance that day.

He tried to fire his wrist laser again, but all it did was short circuit and let off sparks. Stupid mustard…. He flew up higher to get out of range of the KND's weapons. From there he observed the battle. It didn't look so good for their team. Maurice was doing a lousy job attacking the others. For someone who was supposed to be an asset to the team, he sure was useless.

He suddenly caught a glimpse of Numbuh Four aiming something at him from the corner of his eye, and he quickly dodged it. Brat, Chad thought to himself, pointing his laser at him. He remembered it was busted right before he fired. But it was okay, because when he looked down again, the Austrailian squirt had already been knocked over by Cree and was out of the battle, along with most of his other teammates. She really was the best fighter out there.

And so it seemed like it was going to be another showdown between Cree and Numbuh Five. All the battles with Sector V seemed to end that way.

They were arguing loudly and angrily, though Chad couldn't make out the words. He drifted closer to eavesdrop, and thought he caught the word "boyfriend." Chad frowned. Were they fighting over Maurice?

The sisters were in a sort of deadlock, and their argument continued in a much lower tone. Chad could no longer understand their words. But then Cree suddenly flung her sister away and fired up her jet boots.

"We're out of here," came Cree's distorted voice through her facemask. She hovered a moment, staring at her sister, before soaring forward to grab her boyfriend and making a retreat.

Chad shrugged and followed.

They regrouped at a predetermined destination, a lightly wooded area with a small clearing. Cree alighted, putting down Maurice, and walked to a nearby tree, her armor folding off.

"So what the hell was that?" Chad asked.

"Just shut up, will you?" Cree snapped.

Chad frowned at her ornery behavior. If anyone should be complaining, it should be him. "I had plans for this afternoon, you know. Maybe next time you should tell me what the battle's for, because if it's just sibling rivalry over—"

"I said shut up!" she turned to yell at him then immediately balled up and crumpled to the ground, sobbing.

Chad and Maurice stood stunned at a distance and watched her cry. Then Maurice looked away, shifted his weight for several seconds then turned to leave.

Chad grabbed him by the arm. "What are you doing? Go and talk to her," he hissed.

"She wants to be left alone." He pulled his arm free and walked away.

Chad watched him leave and shook his head. He turned to look at Cree. For several moments he couldn't decide what to do. He was certain she wanted Maurice to comfort her, not him. But he couldn't just leave….

He approached her slowly, and then sat down a little distance away. He saw her peer in his direction and identify him--her disappointment was noticeable.

For a while they just sat there on the slightly damp grass, Cree with her head bowed and her knees pulled to her chest, Chad just staring ahead into space. He started to wonder if Maurice was right—maybe she did really want to be alone. He glanced over at her again. She had stopped visibly sobbing, but she occasionally sniffled and wiped her eyes.

Chad furrowed his brow and tried to think of what to do. Finally he asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really," she mumbled.

And she says I need to open up more, he thought to himself.

Long seconds ticked by. Finally Cree murmured, "it hurts every time I have to fight Abby."

Chad looked at her, surprised. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

She frowned and continued as if she hadn't heard him. "We used to be so close. When Mom left to take that job in Paris, Abby was only five years old. Dad had work, the nanny cooked and cleaned, but she was useless when it came to kids, so I was the one raising her. She was so adorable…and so smart and mature for her age. She still is now." Cree smiled, her face shining with pride, her head no longer bowed. "It was that same year that Mom left that I joined the Kids Next Door. I learned a lot from them, and everything I learned I taught to Abby. She thought the Kids Next Door was the coolest thing ever…I did too, actually. She looked up to me, she said she wanted to be just like me, and she wanted to be an operative, too." She suddenly turned to face Chad. "Did you know that she was the youngest operative ever to be inducted into KND?"

He shook his head, knowing full well that she wasn't waiting for his answer.

Cree focused her eyes on the clump of trees at the far end of the clearing, but her mind was far away. "The years that we were in Sector V together were probably the happiest of my life. Back in those days Sector V was indisputably the best team in the organization. And for almost five years, even though I hardly ever got to see Maman, I couldn't even imagine a better life." Her expression turned from joy to dejection when she continued. "But then my thirteenth birthday was coming up. I knew the rules, but I went to the supreme commander anyways and requested to stay longer, just until Abby turned thirteen, and then we'd leave together without a fuss. Just a few more years, that's all I asked for. He said no, of course. So then I said, 'fine, I'll leave the Kids Next Door when I turn thirteen, but please, don't decommission me.' My memories of the years spent with Abby as an operative were too precious to me, I couldn't just give them up! It wasn't so much to ask for, was it? Again, he said no. He even had the nerve to tell me that everything would be okay—can you believe that?"

Chad once again knew the question was rhetorical.

"So there was no other choice. If I wanted to keep my memories, I had to run. The night before my birthday, I talked to Abby. I said we could leave together, right then, and then we'd never have to worry about having out memories erased, and that we'd always be together on the same team. But…," Cree's voice became ragged and fierce, "she chose to stay! She chose the Kids Next Door over her own sister! How could she? After everything we'd been through together, after all I'd done for her? It was all those stupid Kids Next Door's fault, they stole my sister from me! I'll never, ever forgive them!"

The clearing seemed painfully quiet after her tirade. Chad stared at the same clump of trees as she. He didn't know what to say, but the silence was unbearable.

"Well, your reason for hating the Kids Next Door is sure better than mine." He took at quick peek at her. She wasn't looking at him (good) but she was crying again (bad). What could he do to make her feel better? Tell her that he was sure that Abby still loved her? Would Cree believe that, coming from him, who hardly knew her sister? Or would that just annoy her?

If I were her boyfriend, I'd put my arms around her….

But he wasn't. He was just a friend, and he didn't know what to do.

After another span of silence his stomach growled, and Chad suddenly remembered his uneaten lunch. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a sad-looking bologna sandwich. He frowned at it for a moment then removed one half from the plastic bag and edged closer to Cree to tap her on the arm. When she turned, he held it out to her.

"No thanks," she refused.

"Take it," he insisted, shaking it at her in an annoying manner.

She glanced at it in aggravation, but accepted it as a means to stop his pestering.

He took the other half from the wrapping and began to eat it.

Cree looked down at the mangled sandwich in her hands. Room temperature bologna on white. Yum. Still, she was hungry. She took a bite and immediately grimaced at the taste of too much mayonnaise. She squeezed as much of it out of the sandwich as she could, wiping off the excess sandwich spread with her finger, which left her with the problem of mayo-fingers. Not wanting to wipe off her hands on her shirt, she attempted to flick away the unwanted sludge.

"What are you doing?" Chad inquired in a baffled tone.

"There's too much mayo."

"Ugh, you're one of those," he grumbled, but when she looked at him he was wearing a tentative smile. He held out a napkin.

She took it, and wiping off her fingers, asked, "How can you eat that when it's swimming in all that grease?" She took another bite.

"Mayo's good for you. It builds character."

"If by 'character' you mean 'love handles,' then I guess you're right," she replied with a small smirk.

"Mayoist," Chad scoffed.

"What did you call me?"

"You heard me—you're unfairly prejudiced against mayonnaise."

"Clearly you're insane," Cree laughed, shaking her head at the weirdness of their conversation. Maybe it was the rise in her blood sugar level, or maybe the nitrates in the lunchmeat had addled her brain, but she was feeling better.

---
---

author's notes: yeah, i got lazy and left out most of the battle stuff. but here's what happened: Cree attacked Abby, and then Maurice called Sector V to provide backup (anonymously, of course, since they don't know he's still on their side). when Sector V showed up, Cree called Chad, and that's where they were when i decided to start writing again. :P

also, thanks to Zepuka, for pointing out my bologna misspelling. now i'm going to have that Oscar Mayer song stuck in my head until the end of time!