A/N: Will be away from my computer for the next two weeks, so you all get an extra long chapter to hold you over. Take breaks if you need them.

And thank you so much to everyone still leaving reviews. It means so much to me.

We're almost there.

Da, da, da, da

When her eyes locked with those coal-blue ones, it was love at first sight.

A young Rachel McKenzie, riding the high of turning six yesterday—she was a big girl now!— smudged her face against the window. Excited puffs of her breath fogged the glass which she hurriedly went to correct to properly bask in the adorableness in front of her.

On the other side of the window, taking cautious steps into its large enclosure was a baby hamster. The small pup waddled through the bedding, soft chestnut fur beginning to form. Her nose twitched wildly until it bumped into the glass. Struggling, she opened her eyes, blinking rapidly until it locked gazes with the human child in front of her.

The two stared at each other. Rachel's breath caught in her throat, forgoing all oxygen if it meant not scaring away the wonderfully cute creature. The little hamster pup gingerly stood on its hind legs, resting its paws on the glass where Rachel's button nose pressed into the window.

The gesture broke little Rachel's resolve, and an elated squeal tore from her as she hopped up and down.

"Mama! Mama, look!" she said, her voice bubbling with excitement as she turned to her mother. She yanked on the hem of her mother's skirt and directed the adult's gaze to the pet store window. "It's so cute!"

Mrs. McKenzie was torn from her shopping list as her daughter demanded attention. She adjusted her glasses as she followed Rachel's gaze and hesitantly smiled as she studied the hamster pen. "Yes, it certainly is." Realizing where this could be heading, Mrs. McKenzie quickly tickled under Rachel's chin to distract her. "Just like you'll be when we get your new sweater, eh?"

Rachel giggled as she swatted her mother's hand away. How could she forget? Mama brought her to the mall to get her new big-girl winter clothes. And if she was good, there would be cheesecake at the end! Going to the mall with Mama was the best; there was the ball pit, the yummy snacks at the food court, the cute hamsters in the pet store—

Remembering the hamster, Rachel's eyes sparkled as she pointed back to the window, her enthusiasm almost contagious. "Can we get the hamster too? Pretty please? I'll take care of it, I promise!"

Mrs. McKenzie winced. So much for distractions. "Rachel, a pet is a lot of responsibility—"

"I know, but I'm a big girl now! Daddy said so."

"And when you become a bigger girl, maybe we can get you a pet. Like a, uh, kitten!"

"No, a hamster is fine," Rachel said. She began tugging her mother in the direction of the pet store's entrance. "I already named her! Her name is Bon-Bon, and we're gonna be bestest friends. We're gonna play pretend secret agents together, go to the fair and ride all the rides, and—"

Mrs. McKenzie's hand gently grabbed Rachel's wrist. "Rachel, we're not getting a hamster today. Maybe when you're older—"

Rachel's face crumpled. "But it's my birthday!"

"That was yesterday, sweetheart. And you got so many new toys."

"I don't want them anymore. I want Bon-Bon." Rachel's once sweet voice turned into a high-pitched whine as she began stomping her feet. "I want Bon-Bon now!"

A grimace broke out over Mrs. McKenzie's face as she felt judgmental glares on her back. Rachel continued her protests, so her mother cleared her throat and took a calming breath before speaking. "Rachel, sweetie, I'm sorry, but we can't get you a hamster today. Now, let's act like a good big girl so we can get you cheesecake later—"

"No fair!" Rachel's wail roared over her mother's voice, gathering the attention of more nearby shoppers. Some shot more disapproving glances while others exchanged empathetic looks with Mrs. McKenzie. Rachel's face turned a shade of crimson that matched the frustration boiling within her. "You never get me what I want! Mama, you're a meanie!"

Mrs. McKenzie's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, her gaze flitting anxiously between her daughter and onlookers. The knot in her stomach twisted as Rachel's tantrum escalated, and she froze as she noticed the ire of a menacing-looking fellow and his much more well-behaved group of delightfully dressed children. The heat in his glare made her feel inferior.

"Meanie! You're a big fat meanie!"

"Rachel T. McKenzie," her mother said sternly, eyes narrowed with bubbling agitation and panic as the crowd began whispering among themselves, adding another layer to her already frayed nerves. "I-If you don't calm down this instant, there will be no cheesecake!"

"No! You're so mean!"

"Rachel, stop—"

"Mama, you're so mean! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you—"

Young Rachel went silent as something smacked the back of her head. She gasped, eyes wide as a dull pain spread from where her mother struck her.

The snap of anger in Mrs. McKenzie's eyes turned to scandalized horror as she reeled her hand back, but Rachel didn't see that. No, all Rachel saw was the much notably taller and imposing woman who smacked her. Tears pricked the corners of Rachel's eyes, childish anger quickly giving way to fear.

"Oh my god," Mrs. McKenzie gasped. She froze as she had been struck herself. After a moment, she frantically tried to reach for her daughter. "S-Sweetheart, Mama didn't mean to—"

Rachel ran.

The distressed cries of her mother faded in the background as Rachel darted further into the mall. She ducked under the legs of a confused security guard and brushed past several cursing sets of grown-ups before ducking into an empty hallway leading to the restrooms. Little Rachel hid herself behind a large potted plant, tucking in her knees to make herself smaller as she cried.

She rocked back and forth, ugly dread bubbling in her as her mind forcibly replayed the last few moments. Her Mama hit her. Her Mama hit her. Mama never hit her before, but she did now. How long would it be until Mama hit her again?

"Hey, you alright, kid?"

With a gasp, Rachel looked up to see she wasn't alone anymore. A boy, an older boy dressed in red, with brown shaggy hair and a cooking pot on his head had joined her in her hiding spot. From behind his bangs, his eyes glinted with concern, but Rachel ignored it as she curled in defensively.

"Hey, easy now," he said, raising his hands calmly. "I'm not gonna hurt ya."

"I-I'm not supposed to talk to strangers."

"I ain't no stranger," the boy said, taking a step closer and putting a hand on her shoulder. "I'm a kid, just like you—WHOA!"

The boy found himself flipped and on his back. Out of nowhere, the scared girl grabbed his wrist, as if on instinct, and summo-slammed him on his tush. Despite it all, he stared up in awe. She was barely half his size!

Rachel, for her part, balled her hands in his fists as a wild look entered her eyes. "Stranger danger!"

"Calm down, half-pint!" the boy yelled. "I keep telling ya, I ain't no stranger. I'm Numbuh 100!"

"Strangers use fake names!"

"Alright, alright, I'm Steve, you happy?" the boy answered, slowly getting to his feet and taking a wise step away from the frightened girl. "My name is Steve, but my codename is Numbuh 100. I'm with the Kids Next Door."

Rachel blinked. "Kids Next what?"

"Kids Next Door! You know, super cool kids who kick butt and fight adult tyranny?"

"Never heard of you."

Numbuh One-Hundred face palmed with a groan. "This is why I keep telling Sector Q to spread more word up here in Canada…"

Rachel tilted her head, trying to make sense of his last statement. "What's adult Tie-rainy?"

"Adult tyranny," Numbuh One Hundred corrected. "It's when adults oppress you. Ground you from playing outside, take away your candy, make you eat yucky vegetables, spank you; things like that."

Rachel flinched at that last part. She had heard the evils of spanking and rumors of spank-happy vampires who stalk naughty children in the dead of night. She had always assumed she was safe from such horrors, but events from earlier shattered her faith. "Oh…yeah, I know what that is."

At her dejected tone, Numbuh One-Hundred lowered his arms as he softly asked, "What's wrong?"

"Today's my birthday." Yesterday, technically, but hey, close enough. "I came to the mall with Mama and she promised me cheesecake. But then I saw a hamster I wanted. We bonded!"

Numbuh One-Hundred nodded sagely. "Understandable. Hamsters are neat."

"I picked out her name and everything, but Mama said no." Rachel then folded in on herself as she looked away. "Then…t-then she hit me."

The boy's posture went rigid as his fists clenched. "She hit you?"

Rachel nodded as tears returned.

"Why that lousy, no good…" Numbuh One-Hundred growled, fueled by righteous fury. "Hate to break it to you, miss, but this is exactly why the Kids Next Door is around. Adults think they know better than us just cause they're taller and older. They take away all the cool and awesome things in life and smack us around when we get out of line. But that's what the Kids Next Door is for," he said as he cracked his knuckles. "We show 'em we can fight back!"

Rachel sniffed and wiped away her tears. "Fight back?"

"Yeah! We use super cool 2x4 technology like mustard ray guns that go PEW PEW, and they're all like 'AHH IT'S IN MY EYE!' Oh, and sometimes we chuck marbles that explode and go all BWOOOOOSH and then they cry and go 'OW! THE PAIN! THE HORROR!' and it's all totally awesome and stuff," he went on, rolling and jumping around acting out the fantasy. "We protect kids everywhere!"

Rachel's eyes shone with wonder and her mouth was agape with awe. "Do you get to be cool secret spies too?"

"Only the most secret-est spies you'll never see."

"Do you get to eat cheesecake and candy?"

"All day, every day."

"And do you get to play with hamsters?"

"So much, that ya might become allergic to them," Numbuh One-Hundred said with a nod. He paused a moment, developing a thoughtful look as he scratched under his helmet. "Which we would really need to know about ASAP, considering they power our treehouses and all."

"You get to live in treehouses too?" Rachel asked, hardly believing what she was hearing. At the boy's confident nod, she grinned, her imaginative mind's eye running rampant with untold daydreams. "Can I be in the Kids Next Door?"

It seemed like Numbuh One-Hundred was about to shut down the idea; most civilians weren't cut out for the daily daring-do they did daily. But he remembered how she laid him out flat earlier. Him, the Supreme Leader for Pete's sake. He scratched his chin as he looked Rachel over, and despite her tiny, lithe figure, he could see it: that faint glimmer of potential the best operatives had.

"Hm, who's to say?" he said, a smirk working its way up as he reached into his pocket. "Anything's possible, as long as you got the heart for it."

Rachel grinned, twirling her pigtails in excitement. She was going to be a super spy! However, her grin disappeared as an all-too-familiar voice ventured closer. The girl whimpered, hiding behind the now defensive Numbuh One-Hundred as a matronly shadow descended upon them.

"Rachel, thank goodness!" Mrs. McKenzie cried, tears of relief flowing freely as she found her child. "I-I was so worried! Please, let's just go sit down and—"

"Can it with the crocodile tears, adult," Numbuh One-Hundred hissed, hand itching the blaster at his hip. "I'm on to you."

Mrs. McKenzie spluttered as she noticed the boy. She looked at her daughter, confused and hurt at how Rachel flinched away. "Sweetie, who is—"

Numbuh One-Hundred snapped his fingers. "Hey! You're talking to me now, lady. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't light you up with sriracha ketchup."

"Eh? Who do you think you are there, bud?"

"I'm not your bud, pal! And I'm someone who doesn't hit innocent kids, that's for sure," he said, satisfied at the shame blossoming across her face. "Didn't think I'd find out about that, did'ja? Thinkin' you're all big and tough slapping around a little girl. Adults like you make me sick."

Mrs. McKenzie looked at her daughter, remorse heavy in her gaze as she pleaded, "Rachel, I'm so, so sorry. I-It was an accident. S-Sometimes Mama just gets so flustered and stressed and—and I know that doesn't make it right, I know. I swore I'd never lay a hand on my kids, but then I go and do this and it's terrible and I'm just so…"

The adult took a labored breath to calm herself. Both children looked on with different expressions. Numbuh One-Hundred seemed intrigued. It was so…weird seeing an adult so apologetic and broken up over dealing out corporal punishment - they normally loved that stuff. Rachel, for her part, looked on curiously. The sadness in her Mama's voice seemed too genuine to be make-believe.

And Rachel would know, she loved playing make-believe.

"What I did…that's not how Mommies should treat their little girls," Mrs. McKenzie said softly. "I'm sorry. Mama won't ever hit you again."

Rachel leaned forward a bit, but the dull ache on the back of her skull made her weary. Mama would say that now, but what would happen the next time she said no? Her thoughts halted as Numbuh One-Hundred's arm shot towards her mother and he extended his hand.

"Then put your money where your mouth is," he said, "and pinky-swear."

Rachel seemed just as confused as her mother. "What's a pinky-swear?"

"Only the most scared, holy-est of holy oaths a kid can make. You make a pinky-swear, you are bound by the law of promise, and must uphold that promise forever and all time." His look darkened before saying, "Or else. So, adult, you pinky-swear to never lay a hand on your kid, or ANY kid for that matter, and I'll let ya off with a warning. Since I'm feeling nice today."

Mrs. McKenzie hesitated, glancing between her daughter and Numbuh One-Hundred. A quick look at her timid child made her realize how close she came to losing her daughter's trust. She extended her pinky to the determined boy.

"I…I pinky-swear," she said, her voice carrying a sincerity that Rachel hadn't heard in a while.

Numbuh One-Hundred eyed the adult carefully, making sure she meant it, before finally nodding in approval. "Alright, lady. You've made your bed; now lie in it."

Rachel, still cautious, observed the strange interaction but felt a glimmer of hope. One kid could do all that? She sniffled and wiped away the remaining tears as her mother embraced her.

Numbuh One-Hundred patted Rachel's head with a grin. "Just remember, if any adult gives you trouble, you call in the Kids Next Door. We got your back."

With that, he saluted and disappeared into the mall crowd, leaving Rachel and her mother in the hallway, contemplating the unexpected turn of events. Mrs. McKenzie held Rachel close.

"Sweetheart, Mama is sorry," she whispered, brushing a tear from Rachel's cheek. "I promise I'll try my best to be better."

Rachel sniffled but looked up at her mother with hopeful eyes. "And no more hitting?"

"No more hitting," Mrs. McKenzie affirmed, giving her daughter a gentle squeeze.

"Can…can we still get cheesecake?"

"Of course we can," her mother said, taking her daughter's hand. "And maybe one day, we'll…we'll see about a hamster? After we've talked to your dad."

As they left the hallway and made their way to the food court, Rachel couldn't help but be amazed at what just happened. She had just been introduced to a world where kids had their own defenders against the unfairness of the adult world. With nothing but coolness and swagger, that boy had made sure her mom would never hit her again and still get cheesecake despite her outburst. If he could accomplish that, what else were kids capable of?

What else was she capable of?

Her hand brushed against something, and she looked down to see a small card sticking from her back pocket. Weird, she didn't remember having that before. Curious, she unfolded it, carefully making out an address with a message underneath:

Are you in? Or are you old?

Rachel grinned, giggling with excitement at the promise of fun the invitation offered.

And that's how it started; a promise of fun and adventure. All those years later, this is where it led her, on the run against the world and staring down a boy she could never forget.

Rachel kept up her easy smirk just as well as Nigel held on to his neutral glare. The sounds of the suburb faded into the background as they wore their poker faces. The silence droned on for minutes, the two star-crossed teenagers not saying a word, but the intensity in their eyes made up for it. A war of wills waged as brown gazed into coal blue. They both picked away numerous defenses, yet made no headway; the other's true intentions a mystery.

There was a long-standing rumor that Nigel could look into your eyes and decide right then and there if you were a jerk. Rachel wondered what he saw now, and hated how her heart started racing.

With graceful ease, she flipped herself onto the bench beside him. "This seat taken?" Rachel stopped as the nozzle of a blaster pushed into her temple. She scoffed. "That how you say hello these days?"

Nigel furrowed his brows as his grip on the weapon tightened. "Just to those who throw me out of SCAMPERs mid-flight."

A twinkle entered her eyes. "Don't tell me the great Numbuh 1 was going to be done in by gravity?"

Nigel growled. "Forgive me if I fail to see the humor—" He stopped as he felt something press into his gut. After realizing what just happened, he grumbled, "Darn."

"Can't believe it's still that easy to fluster you," Rachel said, her blaster pressed into Nigel's side. "We don't have to do this whole thing, you know? I just came to talk."

"Funny way of showing it."

Rachel sighed, then shifted her eyes between his and her weapon. Nigel looked down to see her finger slowly retracting itself from the trigger. The blaster went limp in her hand and she carefully moved it away before dropping it to her feet. Nigel watched her every move, body tense even after she kicked the weapon out of reach. "Happy? It wasn't even loaded."

Nigel raised a brow with his weapon still drawn. "That's quite the gamble you took."

Rachel rolled her eyes, nonchalantly leaning away to prop her head against her arm. "Not really, considering your safety was on the entire time."

The boy went quiet, relaxing ever so slightly as he holstered his sidearm. His hands went to his knees and he stared dead ahead. Rachel for her part was still slouched against the bench railing, eyes drawing circles in the ground so much she nearly became dizzy. The distance between them, figurative and literal, was vast.

"So," Nigel said, breaking the silence, "I don't suppose you're here to surrender yourself?"

Rachel was quiet before saying, "Maybe I am, in a way."

Nigel gripped the seams of his shorts as he frowned. "I'm tired of playing games, Rachel."

"So am I," she said, raising her eyes to trace the outline of the nearby park tree.

Nigel kept his tone neutral. "How did you find me?"

"Same way as last time; hacked into secure communication channels and waited for the odd piece of intel to slip. Old trick from covert ops; just need to listen and know how to read context clues. It wasn't hard to narrow down where you might be headed." Her eyes trailed across the street as she finished, looking over the Gilligan household. "For what it's worth…I'm sorry about Hoagie. He was a good guy. Didn't deserve what happened to him."

"So you did know what became of him," Nigel said, a clip to his voice as he recalled his and Rachel's last conversation. "Never took you of all people for a liar, yet here we are."

Her hands balled into fists. "Guess it takes one to know one."

"Don't you dare," Nigel snapped, turning his head to glare at the girl's backside. "You lied about Hoagie, lied about Numbuh 5 being the traitor…was everything a lie?" She was silent, and he scoffed and looked away again. "Makes me wonder what would have happened if Abby didn't show up when she did. I guess it would've given you more time for you to think about how you were going to stab me in the back like you did everyone else—"

"I wasn't thinking," she hissed. "I didn't even think you would be back. You weren't ever supposed to come back."

"Well, I did. Now, I have to stop you."

Rachel finally turned to look at him with a glare. "So stop me then."

For the second time, Nigel's hand snapped for his blaster, making a show of turning the safety off. It was back in his palm, duty-bound to follow through with what needed to be done. But despite bearing it, he didn't aim it for the target next to him. He paused, glancing down at the weapon before chucking it over his shoulder. "You said you wanted to talk."

Nigel's action caught Rachel off guard, her eyes widening slightly in surprise as the blaster clattered to the ground behind them. She watched him carefully, uncertainty flickering in her gaze as she processed his unexpected move.

"I did," she admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "But to be honest, I didn't expect you to listen."

Nigel remained silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the ground as he wrestled with his conflicting emotions. Finally, he looked up at her, his expression guarded but curious. "Why are you here, Rachel? What do you want?"

Nigel's question hung heavy in the air, a palpable tension weaving between them like delicate spider silk. His eyes remained fixed on her and Rachel felt the weight of his gaze, causing her resolve to waver. She turned her gaze to the playground around them. It all seemed to hum with potential, the faded colors of the equipment whispering tales of childhood adventures long past.

In a burst of spontaneity, Rachel sprang to her feet, her movements fluid and purposeful. "Perhaps I was too hasty in dismissing games earlier," she declared, her voice tinged with a hint of mischief. With a stretch, she reached for the sky, her joints protesting with satisfying cracks.

The playground beckoned to her, a treasure trove of forgotten delights waiting to be rediscovered. Ignoring Nigel's incredulous stare, she sauntered over to a set of monkey bars, the golden metal glinting in the fading sunlight.

Nigel's raised eyebrows spoke volumes, but Rachel paid them no mind. "Come on," she called over her shoulder, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. "Indulge me."

The boy hesitated for a moment, but something in Rachel's infectious enthusiasm tugged at his heartstrings. With a resigned sigh, he followed her. His movements were stiff and awkward at first, on guard for any foul play. But as they climbed together, the weight of the world seemed to melt away. Together, they reached the summit of the monkey bars, perched like kings atop their castle. The playground stretched before them, a patchwork of memories and dreams woven into the fabric of their shared history.

"I think the last time I climbed a set of monkey bars was at the Arctic Base," Rachel said, eyes scanning the horizon. "Of course, it was just training back then."

Nigel quickly settled in against the bars; feet and hands leaning for support. He couldn't decide if he was too close to Rachel or too far away. "Gymnastics, if I recall. Your bread and butter."

Rachel snorted. "Not so much back then."

"I remember thinking you were pretty good."

Rachel looked over at the boy, also noticing their distance. "Of course you would."

All these losers treated training day like a game. It was why half of them wouldn't even make it past basic hide-and-seek simulations. Good thing that she wasn't like all these losers. She was here to win.

The lithe cadet surged forth and ducked into a slide across the icy pavement. Ignoring the freezer burn on her butt, she went into a rolling leap as a pit trap opened below her. The ball pit was tempting, but it was for babies. She was no baby. She was mere moments away from being a Kids Next Door operative.

After six grueling weeks, many chilly nights, and more than once having to stomach stale banana oatmeal rations, her final examination was upon her. All she had to do was get past this last obstacle course and her destiny was ripe for the taking. There was the written entrance exam, of course, but she had that in the bag. This was the only real challenge left.

And Rachel T. McKenzie never backed down from a challenge.

The final hurdle rose before her, the slippery monkey bar maze of doom (the drill sergeant seemed weirdly proud of the name). With a silent determination, Rachel jumped onto the first bar, her gloved hands gripping the frozen metal with practiced ease. The cold seeped through the layers, biting at her fingertips, but she paid it no mind as she swung from bar to bar with effortless grace.

With a grunt she landed just before the timer hit zero, stumbling a bit to catch herself from falling forward. Rachel quickly corrected her posture, standing straight and arms rigid at her sides. Above on the podium was a panel of three kids, her judges for this last stretch of the course. Her eyes also couldn't help but notice the other kid off to the side, and his gaze seemed to weigh more than the three judges combined.

Numbuh One-Hundred watched her with keen interest, face unreadable and eyes hidden behind his shaggy bangs. It was his act of heroism two years ago that made her push herself to her absolute limit. It was his recommendation that got her fast-tracked into the Cadet Next Door program. Zillions of kids were skipped over just because he thought she had what it took to get the job done.

Rachel breathed through her nose, fighting back shivers as Numbuh One-Hundred turned to the judges as they passed their…well, judgment.

The first judge stroked his chin before raising a sign with the number seven. Rachel bit the inside of her cheek. Okay, not perfect, but not a terrible start. The second judge looked to his colleague, apparently silently agreeing with the verdict as he too rated her performance with a measly seven.

Her nails dug into her hands so hard she felt it despite the numbing cold. They were calling her average. Run of the mill. That just wouldn't do.

Excitement flickered in her eyes as the last judge rose a sign with a nine. Nine! That would probably make up for the two sevens, right? However, that flicker of hope was doused as the judge took a second look at his sign, nervously chuckled under his breath, then flipped it upside down to a six.

Rachel failed to hold back her gasp. Seven, seven, and six.

Middling scores for a mediocre performance.

Several steps under great and far, far from perfect.

Despair rose in her chest and spread over her like wildfire. That score was average. It wasn't good enough.

She was average. She wasn't good enough.

The judges went on satisfied with their review as Rachel's world crumbled around her. She turned to Numbuh One-Hundred, desperate to hear him yell at the three for their obvious mistake. There was no way someone recommended by the Supreme Leader himself would score that low. They had to be wrong. They had to be.

But Numbuh One-Hundred simply stared at her with that unreadable look, saying nothing in her defense. Her heart skipped a beat when he finally did speak.

"Cadet McKenzie," he said, the room and kids around him hanging on every word, "Not bad, but I wonder, was that really your best?"

Rachel stumbled over her words as she went into a shaky salute. "Uh, yes, sir? I-I mean no! N-no, sir!"

The boy was silent as he looked down at her. To others, his inflection was calm and voice neutral; impartial.

But Rachel knew better, that nasty little voice in her head told her so. She knew when she was being pitted. He put his entire rep on the line and she just went and embarrassed him. He was disappointed in her. Just like her dad when she got an A- instead of an A+ on her last spelling test. Just like her mom when her voice was too high pitched during her big solo at the school play. Numbuh One-Hundred was disappointed in her just like everyone else. He had to be. It was the only thing that made sense.

"Then I guess we'll see on your next attempt. Ya get two, after all." His voice broke her train of intrusive thoughts. He tilted his head a bit, motioning towards the exit. "Go take five. Dismissed."

Rachel clumsy replied before turning and stumbling to the exit, face low as she played off her blush as simple exertion. The murmurs of the operatives around her and the clanking of the training course resetting faded in the background as she disappeared deep into the cold corridor.

Her face twisted into a furious scowl. She paced back and forth, self-hatred boiling beneath her skin as frustrated tears blurred her vision. She looked up at the icy wall of the base to see her reflection. It glared back at her all jagged, mangled, distorted.

Imperfect.

With a yell, she smashed her fist into it. The wall cracked and the sick satisfaction was just enough to subdue the throbbing of her knuckles. But the feeling faded quickly. Exhaustion overwhelmed her, and she crumpled to the floor. Tears threatened to spill, but a strangled whine left her throat as she refused the urge. She would not succumb to a childish need. She was a big girl.

"Hey."

Rachel snapped up as an accented voice cut through her fog. The first thing she noticed was that he was bald. Very hard to miss that. Timid eyes hid behind glasses, and his body was covered in a light blue tee that was probably doing nothing against the Arctic's chill. His hand was extended, nervously offering a small ginger-snap treat.

The boy cleared his throat, mustering the last of the courage he must have built up to confront her. He smiled as he asked, "Wanna take a cookie break?"

"Not now, baldy," she said, the word passing her filter before she could stop it. She winced as he flinched, and was thankfully able to course correct. "Shoot! I-I'm sorry. That just slipped—I'm so sorry," she meekly apologized as she looked away. "I'm…a big stinky mess right now."

That should have been the end of it, but by Zero's shades, she could never figure out why he didn't take a hike. No, he just nodded, some resolve building behind those glasses, and took a seat next to her. "Well, I think that's a good reason to take a cookie break, then."

Rachel folded her arms, looking away despite his protests. The ginger-snap cookie suddenly jingled in front of her nose, and it twitched as the sweet aroma invaded her nostrils. She tried to ignore it, hoping he'd go away and share it with someone more deserving. But then her stomach went and grumbled (the sell-out), and with a pout, she snapped the cookie from his hand and took a small nibble.

The boy smiled as she accepted his peace offering. The smile grew as Rachel perked up a bit, taking a bigger second bite and munching away happily.

"Hey, this is yummy!" Rachel said between bites. Cheesecake was still the undisputed champion of all things sugary and delectable, but she would admit that this cookie was probably a shoo-in for second place. "I didn't know they had cookies in the cafeteria today."

"They don't. My Mommy made them," the boy answered as he produced another cookie from his pouch. "It was a going away present before I left for 'summer camp'."

Rachel swallowed, crumbs sprinkled across her lips. She looked over longingly, her outburst earlier the only thing stopping her from asking for seconds. Thankfully, it seemed she needn't worry, as the bald boy gave her another without hesitation. She shuffled cutely and smiled into her bite, his act of kindness making her feel warm and tingly.

"Thank you," she said softly, finally remembering her manners. She paused halfway through the second cookie to meet his gaze. "I'm Rachel. I don't think I've seen you before."

"I'm Nigel, and I just got here today," Nigel greeted. "I wanted to cheer on my best friend Abby. She took her written exam earlier. She's the whole reason I got to come."

Rachel finished her cookie as she mused over that. She knew of Cadet Lincoln, who didn't? She was the kid sister of the famous Numbuh Eleven. A surge of jealousy jolted her system. Cadet Lincoln was the only kid who scored higher than her in the hide-and-seek simulation—but just by one point—and Lincoln passed her entrance exam yesterday with flying colors. Rachel thought it was unfair. She didn't have a big sister to help her. Sure, Numbuh One-Hundred got her foot in the door, but she had to do all the hard work herself. Rachel couldn't rely on nepotism—she only knew that word because she spelled it incorrectly on her test, curse you Ms. Terrybottom—to get her this far.

She decided right then and there that her little brother would have an easier time if he ever wanted to join the Kids Next Door. If Numbuh Eleven could get away with it, why couldn't Rachel? However, that would entirely depend on Rachel getting into the Kids Next Door herself, which seemed unlikely given her terrible showing earlier.

Rachel snapped her gaze to study Nigel, using him as a distraction from those kinds of thoughts. He seemed younger than her (his chippy enthusiasm gave it away) but not by that much if she had to guess. He kept going on about his friend, Cadet Lincoln; how cool she was, how she always shared the best candy with him, things like that. His accent was obvious, but not like the French kids in primary school. She became less interested in the actual words he was saying and the unique timber and cadence his voice kept.

Every other second, he would shiver despite his smile, and it made her want to squeeze him in her overgrown sweater. She blushed and buried her face in her sleeves at the thought, and thanked Santa Claus himself that Nigel was too engrossed in conversation to notice. Her eyes darted up to his head, his clean-shaven scalp, an obvious draw. Her blush faded as she found she just couldn't look away.

"Um, it…it was an accident. By a bunch of jerks," Nigel mumbled. Rachel winced, flustered he caught her staring. He didn't seem angry, she honestly would have preferred that over the sadness that infected his tone. "And the KND hair stylists say it's permanent."

"I'm sorry," Rachel said. Her negative feelings from early on seemed to compound as her mind just kept replaying how she insulted him when he just wanted to offer her a cookie. "I was being a meanie."

He smiled and awkwardly tried to brush it off. "It's okay—"

"No it's not," she interrupted, clenching her eyes shut as her hands anxiously tore through her hair. "I was upset because I screwed up. Then I took it out on you when you were just being nice. I'm so stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid—"

A ginger-snap cookie was shoved into her mouth.

Rachel blinked, then slowly turned her head to stare at Nigel, who at least had the decency to be shocked at what he just did.

"S-Sorry, it's just my Mommy says you shouldn't talk with your mouth full. And you were saying mean things about yourself, s-so I just thought that…" he trailed off, fumbling over his explanation. He paused and sighed, collecting his thoughts before he spoke again. "Just, maybe don't be so hard on yourself. Big tests are scary enough. And what do you mean you screwed up? I saw you out there, you were pretty cool! Especially with that double swingy thing you did at the end."

Rachel clenched her jaws, snapping the cookie in half. She chewed on its head as its body fell into her hands. She swallowed down the treat and the bubbly feeling trying to come up due to Nigel's flattery. "It wasn't cool, or did you not see the scores they gave me?"

"Yeah, the judges are kinda harsh, but that was the highest score I've seen this round. The last guy couldn't even break a four."

"The last guy doesn't matter. What I do matters, and what I did wasn't enough," Rachel bemoaned. "Numbuh 100 vouched for me and I embarrassed him. I bet he wishes I never even came here."

"That's not true. Numbuh 100 seems like a cool guy and I bet he just wants you to do your best because he believes in you."

"Probably not after that performance. I don't even believe in myself."

That nasty little voice came back whispering how she wasn't good enough and would never be good enough. Vile, terrible things swirled in her thoughts but were interrupted as Nigel cleared his throat.

"If you can't believe in yourself, then…then believe in me," Nigel said, puffing up his chest to try and impress the seasoned cadet. "Because I believe in you."

Rachel looked at him for a moment, covering yet another blush with a snort. "How can you? We just met."

The boy's hand greeted her with a slightly awkward shoulder touch and his voice cracked a bit as he tried to suavely say, "I don't just share my cookies with anyone, you know."

His cheesy grin was the straw that broke the camel's back as her inner dark monologue was undone by her bout of uproarious giggles. "You're such a doofus."

"Um, well this doofus got a laugh out of you didn't he?" Nigel said, nervously scratching the back of his head. When Rachel calmed down, and unconsciously scooted closer, the boy sent a silent thanks to the advice his friend Hoagie gave him. "Sometimes it helps to have some fun. Hey! Maybe that's it."

"What's it?"

"You get another try, right?" At her nod, he smiled. "Well, why don't you just have fun with it? Treat it like a game!"

Rachel balked at the suggestion. "Are you cuckoo!? These are tryouts for the Kids Next Door; we can't treat it like a silly baby's game! We have to take it super duper seriously or they'll never let us in!"

Nigel frowned as he crossed his arms. "That sounds like something the grown-ups would say. Are you some fussy grown-up now?"

"Heck no. I'm a kid!"

"Exactly! We're kids," he said, his smirk much more confident now as his glasses gleamed under the light. "So go out there and remind those judge-y Mc-judge-pants that kids have fun."

The intercom overheard blared out her name, causing them both to flinch. It seemed her break was over. Rachel looked at Nigel as he stood and extended his hand to her. She slowly took it and allowed him to help her rise to her feet. She stared down the corridor, and after a tense moment, she nodded at the boy and marched on with purpose.

Once again, Rachel stood at the start of the training course. Above her, the judging panel watched on, somewhat disinterested. And then, there was Numbuh One-Hundred. His expression was unreadable just like before, giving no clue to his true inner thoughts. All she knew was he was watching her intently.

Apprehension roiled in her stomach, the nasty voice scolding her. If she didn't take this attempt seriously, she could kiss her dreams of secret agent missions and endless hamster playtime goodbye.

But then, another voice spoke up. A voice that sounded oddly British and encouraged her to just throw caution to the wind and have a ball.

With a smile, she heeded the second voice as she ran ahead.

It was all a blur. The training course became indistinguishable from that of the playground back home as she slid down a slope, swung on a tire rope, and danced and twirled through the monkey bars. Adrenaline pumped in her veins, urging her forth as bouts of laughter escaped her lips. The icy cold of the steel was nothing compared to the exhilaration flushing her system as she went into a triple-helix-super-mega flip. Rachel made a three-point landing that would make any comic-book superhero envious, then stood proud as stretched her arms in a victorious pose.

Breathless and beaming, Rachel basked in the applause of the small crowd of her peers, their cheers washing over her like a tidal wave of adoration. She looked up at the judges, more than pleased at their gobsmacked expression as they started furiously shuffling through scorecards.

The first judge held up his sign, a solid eight.

The second one did not want to be shown up by his colleague and produced a nine.

The last judge confidently waved a one for all to see.

You could hear a pin drop in the awkward silence that followed. Operatives and cadets around Rachel seemed bewildered as her jaw slacked in utter shock.

Confused, the last judge looked at his scorecard and paled. He slammed it on the desk, furiously scribbling before jerking it back up to show an improvised ten.

The cheers returned to normal as Rachel sagged with pride and relief. She looked past the judges, looking to Numbuh One-Hundred. His neutral expression morphed into a self-assured smile and he gave a thumbs up, as if he had foreseen this outcome all along. The silent praise from her sponsor was a feeling she could hardly describe.

But, as she turned to the crowd, she secretly admitted that despite all that, nothing could compare to the warmth she felt as she spotted Nigel hooting and hollering praises at her performance.

"You believed in me when I didn't. Back then, and even when I called my first game of TAG," Rachel said as the memory flickered away. She kept her gaze on the horizon, the sun finally disappearing over the hillside. But the only thing in her peripheral was the bald galactic operative. "But what about now?"

Nigel glared at the sky, hating how the clouds seemed to be shaped like those damned ginger-snap cookies. "How can I? You lied to me."

Rachel gripped the bars tightly but said nothing.

"You blackmailed an innocent operative."

"You think Numbuh 74.239 was innocent? Him and Infinity…we were all pawns to them. We were their weird little science fair experiment they got to watch play out in real-time. They lied to all of us just to get in good with a bunch of space babies," she said, voice cold as she recounted all she uncovered about the shadowy 'Splinter Cell'.

"And that justifies what you did to Dave? What about his colleagues, his human caretakers?" Nigel asked. "Did you even consider what would happen to them?"

"I deleted everything I had on Numbuh 74.239 when he gave me what I wanted. Then? No contact. That's what we agreed on. It's not my fault he couldn't cover his tracks and panicked." Rachel said. Her voice was stern and expression completely neutral if not for the subtle wince of her eye. "They stole one of the KND's best defenses against adult tyranny and left me to clean up the mess. They didn't care what happened to us. It was only about saving themselves."

"And what about my team?"

Rachel kicked off the monkey bars and landed against the grass with a thud. She wandered over to a see-saw and slumped down on one end. Her arms crossed against the handle-bars and she rested her head against it. She barely acknowledged Nigel as his shadow covered her. "What about them?"

"You split them up," he said, forcibly sitting down on the other end of the plank. He faced sideways, away from Rachel as the shift in weight forced her into the air. "For petty reasons, no less."

"Oh, is that what she told you," Rachel spat, glaring down at him. "Did Numbuh 5 also tell you how your team shut down once you left? How they whittled away at that treehouse, barely getting up the nerve to chase down an ice cream truck? Kids in your sector's area were preyed upon while your team just sat around and moped."

Nigel snapped his head towards her. "So you just forced promotions they didn't want on them?"

"What was I supposed to do? I tried being nice," she growled, slamming her butt down and jerking the boy into the air as she leaned against the handle. "But they were just like you: wouldn't talk to me, treated me like a doormat, smacked away any olive branch I offered!"

"W-Wait. Is this about what happened after Lizzie dumped me?" Nigel asked, incredulously. When she looked away, he slammed down, watching her side soar up as disbelief burned in his eyes. "Oh my god, it is, isn't it? Rachel, I was just dumped. What was I supposed to do? Pretend everything was hunky-dory and go out for meatball sandwiches!?"

"It wasn't about that, you doofus! You were my friend, Nigel. But after that, it was just terse mission updates and one-sentence reports. After Lizzie you…you just shut me out," she admitted, burying her head in her arms and staring at the ground. "Do you know how much that hurt? After…after what you promised?"

Nigel clamped his mouth shut and looked away. Rachel closed her eyes, letting her mind wander as things got quiet once again.

Numbuh One-Hundred walked down the hallway of sector Q's treehouse with its leader in tow. Sure, technically it should be Numbuh Three-Sixty-One leading the charge, but gumption and instinct had gotten the shaggy-haired Supreme Leader far in his twelve years of life. Finding sector Q's hamster generator room was probably the easiest thing he had to do in months.

What came after finding it, however, was gonna be super hard.

"She's in there, sir," the Inuit leader of sector Q said as he went into a nervous salute. "She's been holed up in there for the past two days ever since we…well, got the transfer request."

Numbuh One-Hundred stared at the sealed door, a giant KEEP-OUT OR ELSE sign stapled to it. "You don't say?"

"M-Maybe I was too hasty in signing off on the transfer, sir," Numbuh Three-Sixty-One mumbled, fidgeting as he felt the Supreme Leader's eyes on him. The boy gulped. "I mean, it feels like she's been part of the team forever despite just getting here. Plus, I know the hamsters are gonna miss her something terrible—"

"Numbuh 361," One-Hundred said in a tone that brokered no argument. "I know you. You wouldn't have signed off on that transfer request unless it benefited all of the Kids Next Door. You mean to tell me you're second-guessing yourself now?"

The boy fumbled with the strings of his parka. "No, sir."

"Losing a teammate's hard, I get it. But we need new blood to fill in Espionage and Covert Tactics. Now more than ever."

"No kidding, sir. I still can't believe Numbuh 11 took out most of our top spies with just a can of silly-string and a slice of pizza. I mean, the famous leader of sector V going rogue? That's bananas!" the leader of sector Q went on, still not believing some of the wild rumors from Cree Lincoln's tragic thirteenth birthday ceremony. When Numbuh One-Hundred's face darkened, Three-Sixty-One stuttered. "Uh, s-sorry, sir. I know it's a sore spot, knowing you two were close and all."

Numbuh One-Hundred was quiet. He tilted his head away from the younger boy and just stared dead ahead. "Numbuh 362's the best candidate we got to fill in ranks. The girl's got too much talent to waste down here cleaning up hamster doodie."

Sector Q's leader sighed. "Try telling her that."

"I'll do more than try, son. Dismissed. I'll take over from here."

"You sure, sir? She hacked our systems and locked us out."

"Really? Dang. If only someone had a Supreme Because I Said So Override code or something," One-Hundred dryly said. Taking the hint, Three-Sixty-One gave an awkward salute before booking it back down the hall. With a roll of his eyes, One-Hundred walked up to the door terminal and inputted his bypass code.

The door to the hamster generator room whooshed open, duct tape on the other side ripping away easily. Numbuh One-Hundred walked into the room, curious at how dim the lighting was in the place that powered the entire treehouse.

Like he was in some horror movie, the door slammed shut behind him, leaving him in the dark. With a grumble, One-Hundred shouted out, "Computer! Give me some lights!"

"AND WHY SHOULD I DO THAT?" the automated voice replied with a healthy dose of sass.

The boy scoffed. Numbuh Three-Sixty-One wasn't exaggerating about the state of the computer system. "Because I, Supreme Leader Numbuh 100, said so."

There was a flicker of static over the intercom as the computer received an attitude adjustment. "BOSSY TONE RECOGNIZED. TURNING ON LIGHTS."

Numbuh One-Hundred was thankful for his bangs as they shielded his eyes from the harsh lights of the generator room. He was not thankful, however, to see himself surrounded by a massive sea of hamsters snarling at him with murder in their cute beady eyes.

Whelp, here came the hard part.

"Loyal little fuzzballs, aren't ya?" he said casually. "Easy there, fellas. I just wanna talk to her."

The hamsters didn't seem to share the sentiment as they continued to bare their little teeth at him.

Pulling out the big guns, One-Hundred reached into his back pocket. "I got some nice sunflower seeds for ya."

He was shocked when they refused to relent.

Even more so when one of the buggers somehow pulled out a switchblade.

"What the—"

"My babies can't be bribed."

The voice from the rafters made One-Hundred look upwards. Deciding to just get to the source of the matter, he cleared his throat before hollering, "Stop playing games and get down here."

"No."

His brows furrowed as he tried to pinpoint the voice's location. "Numbuh 362, get down here. That's an order."

"No."

"I'm sorry," he said again, voice hitching as his fists clenched, "Did you just refuse an order from your Supreme Leader?"

"I don't wanna go to the Moonbase!"

"CHEESE AND CRACKERS!" Numbuh One-Hundred jumped at least a good ten feet in the air as a young Rachel McKenzie somehow appeared right behind him. His hand clutched at his thumping heart, but the sneaky little pipsqueak just glared him down.

"I don't wanna go!" Rachel yelled with a stomp of her foot. Her brown sweater was littered with hamster fur, and bits of seeds and shavings were weaved in her golden locks. The girl leaned down, scooping up a bundle of hamsters, and held them possessively while they, in turn, nuzzled into her chest. "I like being here in sector Q. I have everything I need. My friends and my hamsters!"

"Come on, Numbuh 362, just think about it for a second," One-Hundred said, thankful to at least have the girl on ground level. It was a good start. "You're getting a promotion, a humongous one! You know how many operatives would kill to be part of Moonbase Covert Ops this early in their career?"

Rachel stuck her tongue out. "Then go ask one of them!"

"What happened to wanting to be a cool secret agent?"

Rachel shook her head. "I like being a Hamster Caretaker better."

"But when it comes to sneaky stuff, you're a natural. You single-handedly stole the blueprints to Cuppa Joe's coffee drilling rig from right under his nose while he was on high alert from drinking eleventy-gazillion cups of black coffee! Heck, you just managed to pull a fast one on me," he admitted as his heart rate was finally coming down. "You got the makings of being the best spy in the entire Kids Next Door!"

"Then why can't I be the best here in sector Q?"

"Moonbase Covert Ops needs you, girl. You're our best shot at making sure our operations don't get set back, like, hundreds of summer vacations. A lot is riding on this."

Rachel mulled it over, scrunching up her face as she plopped onto the floor. The hamsters at her feet started climbing up her legs, encasing her in a cocoon of fuzziness as she sniffled back tears. "But it's not fair. Why do I have to leave my treehouse just because Numbuh 5's dumb sister double-crossed us? Make her do it!"

Numbuh One-Hundred came to try and sit beside her but kept his distance at arms' length. "Numbuh 5's got her hands full helping sector V recover from all this, and she's taking it pretty hard too, you know. And it's like I said; I need the best for Covert Ops. It's why I requested you."

His praise worked its magic, Rachel's eyes filling with pride. The greenhorn operative mused over the pros and cons of her possible new position. The twitching of whiskers and squeaking from her arms made her remember her cute little babies. "Can I take my hamsters with me?"

Numbuh One-Hundred grimaced. "They're sector Q's hamsters. They're needed here."

Rachel hiccuped, tears running down her face. The hamsters murmured with worry and nuzzled their faces into her cheeks. The affection just made her cry harder. "But they're my babies. They need me."

One-Hundred offered the girl a handkerchief. After a moment, she stubbornly accepted it and used it to wipe her eyes. The boy gave her some time to compose herself as he huddled his knees together. He took off his stainless-steel helmet-pot and gazed back at his reflection.

"I know it's not easy for ya. I ain't never seen hamsters take to an operative like they do to you. Sector Q's energy output has quadruple-ified ever since you got here. You take good care of 'em. But it ain't just them who need you, Rachel," he said. He looked up to the canopy of the generator room. "Being a Kids Next Door operative is more than just playing with hamsters or hanging out in a treehouse all day. Kids out there need us and it means that sometimes we gotta make tough calls and get out of our comfort zone."

Rachel sniffled, her eyes still glistening with tears as she listened to Numbuh One-Hundred's words. She wiped her nose with the handkerchief and glanced around the familiar surroundings of sector Q's treehouse. The warmth of her hamsters' fur against her skin reminded her of the comfort she found in their company.

"But what if I mess up?" Rachel asked, her voice trembling with uncertainty. "What if I'm not good enough?"

One-Hundred sighed, placing a reassuring hand on Rachel's shoulder. "Look, everyone has doubts, especially when they're faced with something new. But I've seen you in action, kid. You've got guts, determination, and a knack for thinking on your feet. You might not realize it yet, but you've already proven yourself more than good enough."

Rachel blinked back more tears, her heart torn between the familiarity of Sector Q and the uncertainty of a new adventure. She knew deep down that One-Hundred was right – she had always dreamed of being a hero, of being someone her little brother could look up to. And maybe this was her chance to do just that.

Taking a deep breath, Rachel straightened her back and met Numbuh One-Hundred's gaze with newfound determination. "Okay," she said, her voice steadier now. "I'll do it."

A smile spread across One-Hundred's face, his eyes lighting up with pride. "That's the spirit! I knew you had it in you, Rachel."

She tried to return his smile, but a look around her just reminded her of everything she would have to give up. Sadness returned and she pleadingly looked up to her leader. "Can I have some time to say goodbye?"

One-Hundred nodded. "'Course you can. You and your sector take the weekend off and enjoy yourselves. I'll send a transport back for ya on Monday." Noting her frown hadn't relented, he held out his hand to the side. A hamster dutifully stepped into his palm, and he handed the critter over the Rachel with a sly smirk. "And hey, looks like someone wants to tag along with ya."

"Bon-Bon!" Rachel squealed as the elderly chestnut-colored hamster nibbled affectionately at her fingers. She giggled, but confusion settled in after a second. "But wait, you said I couldn't take sector Q's hamsters."

"I do believe that I gifted Bon-Bon to you at graduation," he said with a wink. "'Sides, I think the other hamsters can pick up her slack. Ain't that right, fellas?"

A stream of sunflower seeds pelted his exposed forehead, and Numbuh One-Hundred groaned while Rachel laughed.

The weekend had come and gone too quickly. There was cheesecake, a flood of tears, and endless promises of 'I'll write you every day!' before Rachel waved goodbye to sector Q as the doors of a Moonbase SCAMPER closed in front of her. She took a shaky breath, reminding herself she was a big girl before jumping in her chair and hooking her seat belt.

Rachel gazed out the window, the Canadian wilderness getting further and further away as she ascended past the clouds. Not even two minutes into the flight, the girl found herself stimming with flicks of her fingers as she suddenly needed to have someone to talk to.

Her eyes darted to Bon-Bon and the hamster was sleeping from the safety of her flight-ready hamster ball. She poked her head into the aisle and gave a dry stare to the closed door leading to the cockpit. The pilot, a kid with the designation Two-o-Six, was apparently too good to associate with 'newbies', the jerk.

Hope bubbled in her chest as Rachel pulled out her personal LUNCHBOCKS computer and began pulling up the PENPAL program.

Kids Next Door: P.E.N.P.A.L.

Pals. Exchange. N-crypted. Postage. And. Linguistics.

When she first learned of the Cadets Next Door's Pick-a-PENPAL! Program during orientation, she thought it a complete waste of time. Why would super cool operatives choose a cadet to 'sponsor' and be pen-pals with? If they needed that much emotional support, they should just bring their security blankets or their I'm a Big Crybaby Rainbow Monkey. When asked if she wanted to volunteer for the program, she responded with a fat, wet raspberry. Rachel would be far too busy doing super fun and cool things to babysit some cadet who'd run home whining within the first week.

But after passing her entrance exam with excellent marks—suck it, Numbuh 5. Rachel scored higher by one point!—Rachel abruptly changed her tune and practically begged the Arctic Base Commander to let her sign up. She owed it to the kind young boy who was probably the only reason she even made it past the PT portion of her exam. She needed to make sure he knew he wasn't alone, and that he would get all the best tips and tricks to make it into the Kids Next Door with her one day.

Right now, she decided she needed to see that same boy during one of the biggest and scariest changes of her life. The call barely made it past the first ring before the surprised face of Nigel Uno appeared.

"Oh! Hey Rach—um, I mean, greetings, Numbuh 362," Nigel said, quickly correcting himself. He then relaxed into an easy smile. "Perfect timing. I was just about to contact you."

Rachel hid her giddiness behind a click of her tongue and wag of her finger. "Really now? You know it's against the rules to use PENPAL calls when you're no longer a cadet, Numbuh 1."

Nigel scoffed as he waved her off. "Puh-lease, like anyone cares. Besides, could say the same to you, hmm?"

Rachel rolled her eyes at his sly look but smiled regardless. "Guilty as charged. What were you calling about?"

The boy puffed his chest, his posture exuding pride, excitement, and…was that apprehension? Before she could ask, he announced, "As of just four and a half minutes ago, you are now addressing the new leader of sector V."

Rachel gasped. "Whoa, that's great Ni—er, I mean, Numbuh 1! Congratulations! I had no idea you were next in line so soon!"

Nigel deflated a bit, mustering a chuckle as he nervously scratched the back of his head. "Uh, well, not exactly. Numbuh 5 was next in line to be sector commander, but after some talking, she convinced me I'd be better suited for the job."

Rachel frowned at that news, cheeks puffing out. Suddenly she was reminded of all the stressors and annoyances her now former leader, Numbuh Three-Sixty-One, had to deal with almost constantly. Being the leader was a crud ton of responsibility. And Numbuh Five thought it best to pawn it off on a kid who just recently graduated? "Hey, she didn't pressure you, did she?"

"What? No, Abby would never do that!" Nigel immediately shut down that accusation. "She's…she's been through a lot. I'm sure you've heard about what happened with…uh, Numbuh 11…"

Rachel's eyes darted to the side, reminded of her situation. "Hard not to."

"I've been worried about her. She's done so much to help me, I had to do something to help her for a change," he said, a faraway look appearing in his eyes. He pounded his fists together, determined. "So when she suggested it, I jumped on the chance. I-I may be green, but I already have a bunch of neat ideas to triple-fy our mission effectiveness rate! And now that I'm sector leader, Global Command has to heed my warnings of how the adults are planning to kidnap babies and take them into hospitals to age them into grown-ups!"

Rachel giggled as Nigel went on. "Uh-huh. I'll be sure to help filter out the crazier theories." She blinked, remembering why she reached out in the first place. "Oh yeah! I guess they're giving promotions out like candy cause guess what? I just got reassigned to Moonbase Covert Ops."

Nigel was about to launch into another series of conspiracies when Rachel's news stopped him cold. His jaw went slack, then his face lit up with genuine enthusiasm. "Whoa, that's so cool! I hear trying to get into Covert Ops is next to unpossible. Congratulations, you deserve it!"

"Thanks."

At her subdued tone, Nigel frowned. "What's wrong? Aren't you excited?"

Rachel's hands fiddled inside the pouch of her brown wool sweater. "Just kinda…nervous? I mean, when I joined I had dreams of being a super cool spy, but I came to like my position in sector Q. Leaving was…super hard. I never thought I'd have to abandon my team. Talk about being careful what you wish for."

Nigel nodded. "Yeah, I can't imagine having to leave Abby or the other guys behind. We're lucky we all got to be in the same sector. I wish I could share some of that luck with you." He offered a smile. "And hey, I bet your old team will come to visit all the time!"

Rachel appreciated the boy's optimism as she meekly nodded.

"Plus think of all the new friends you'll make on the Moonbase, and you'll get to be with Numbuh 100 during his last month. Oh! You also get to work with the Numbuh 274!"

She gasped, eyes sparkling with giddiness. "You're so right! I bet he'll teach me all sorts of new ninja moves! And maybe even sign my 274 Sticker Collection!"

"Can you get me his autograph?" Nigel began shaking the screen frantically. "Pretty please with cherries on top?"

"I'll see what I can do," Rachel said, the fangirl high dissipating. "Guess I never thought of all the pros to being reassigned to the Moonbase."

"See? With that line of thinking, you'll be on Global Command in no time. And now that I'm a sector leader, we can use official communication channels to talk about missions, new 2x4 specs, and a bunch of other important stuff without having to use the PENPAL program."

"Hmm, I don't know. Using the PENPAL when we're not supposed to does have its charm."

"Well…maybe we can still use it for things more off the record," he relented with a smirk. His expression filled with confusion as if just realizing something. "Huh, it just hit me: now that you're assigned to the Moonbase, you outrank me."

Rachel wiggled her brows. "Jealous?"

"Nah. Honestly, this feels right. Like how it's supposed to be or something." He stood straighter, smiling despite going into a parade rest position. "I'd follow your lead anywhere, so don't think getting a fancy promotion is going to keep me out of your hair."

Rachel was thankful the low light of the SCAMPER hid her flushed cheeks. "Is that a promise?"

Nigel nodded confidently, extending his hand to poke the screen. "It's a pinky promise."

Rachel returned the gesture as a wave of relief washed over her, mingling with the fluttering butterflies in her stomach. His assurance, spoken with sincerity, echoed in her mind, soothing her anxieties like a gentle balm. She couldn't help but feel a swell of gratitude towards him, not just for his unwavering support in this moment, but for the steadfast friendship that had grown between them.

But beneath that gratitude, there was something else stirring within her—a warmth that radiated from the depths of her heart, a feeling she had long tried to suppress. She dared not entertain the notion, yet in this vulnerable moment, with Nigel's unwavering pledge to stand by her side, it became impossible to ignore: a spark of hope, a whisper of possibility, that perhaps her secret affection for him was not as one-sided as she had feared.

Rachel coughed into her hand after she pulled it back. After centering herself and dismissing those silly thoughts—she'd grow out of it, really—she smirked as she said. "Well then, as your new superior, my first official order is for you to report to the Moonbase for a cookie break. Once I've settled in, that is."

Nigel smiled brighter as he went into a salute. "Sir, yes, sir!"

Rachel laughed. "At ease, soldier."

Her career afterward was filled with the hardships expected with joining the coveted Covert Operations Division, but the frequent cookie breaks and official (and sometimes not-so-official) communications with the up-and-rising leader of sector V made it easier to forget that sector Q never really bothered to keep in touch as much as they promised.

The sea-saw had balanced during the past few quiet minutes. Rachel still had her face buried in her arms, looking away from the boy across from her. Not that it would have mattered, for Nigel found it hard to hold Rachel's gaze as well. He peered across the street, watching as kids hugged and cried over goodbyes but being called in by their parents. The two children sniffled, then pinky-promised they'd see each other the next day.

Nigel sighed as he stared at his pinky. "Guess there's truth to the curse of going back on a pinky promise."

Rachel let out a hollow laugh. "We were kids. We didn't even know what we were promising—"

"I didn't want you to think less of me."

The girl flinched as the sea-saw tilted towards the boy. Rachel looked up, bewilderment evident in her eyes as Nigel's filled with shame.

"I was a wreck after Lizzie," he admitted. "Abby had to take point on missions because I was distracted, there were countless nights where Hoagie had to pick me up from Lime Ricky's after the barkeep cut me off, and Kuki and Wally fought for my attention to play with Rainbow Monkeys and Yipper to keep me from crying over the break-up. My team had to babysit me like some pathetic loser."

Rachel's gaze softened.

"I didn't want you to see me like that," he said as he stood from the sea-saw. "You seeing me at my lowest…that was a nightmare I never wanted to live through."

"You and your stupid pride."

Nigel saw that Rachel had closed the distance between them, the girl less than a foot away. This close he could feel her glare. But it wasn't as vicious as before. More of a glare of someone who had been affronted. "You think I'd brush you off just because you hit rock bottom? How could you think that?"

Nigel winced and weakly argued, "I was vulnerable."

Rachel seethed. "So I let you be there for me when I'm vulnerable but can't let me return the favor?"

Days when Numbuh Eighty-Six was around the Moonbase were tense, to say the least. Every operative—especially that of the male-identifying persuasion—was on their tip-toes and bestest of the best behavior lest the fiery redhead makes up some inane excuse to put in an official request for their 'early decommissioning' that Supreme Leader Numbuh Two-Seventy-Four would (thankfully) deny. Seeing as Fanny was the Head of Decommissioning, the days when she was around were quite common.

Today, however, was not common. While Numbuh Eighty-Six was around, she, shockingly, wasn't the girl to avoid this time.

"N-Numbuh 362, i-it wasn't my fault!" Fanny spluttered as she chased after the blonde's backside. The wounds over the fugitive Numbuh Two-o-Six debacle were still two days fresh, and the redhead was tripping over herself to make it up to her superior. "I-It was those stooopid boys from sector V—"

Fanny clumsily skidded to a halt when Rachel snapped in her direction. The KND's Best Spy gave the Irish redhead an icy glare that shivered her to the core. She flinched when Rachel snapped her fingers, and moments later, a nervous Herbie dropped a file in Rachel's hand before scrambling away to avoid being caught in the crossfire of the incoming verbal lashing. Rachel's eyes quickly scanned the document before snarling at Fanny.

"According to this report, all credit for the capture of Numbuh 206," she stressed every syllable, Fanny shrinking at every inflection, "goes to Numbuh 86. That is what you demanded to be on record, is it not?"

Fanny gulped. "Uh, y-yeah, b-but that was before—MMMF!"

Rachel shoved the paper into the dumbfounded mouth of Fanny. The spy narrowed her eyes in slits, then sharply turned and slammed the door to her quarters in the flustered girl's face.

Fanny gingerly spat out the report and stared at Rachel's door. She flinched at the click of the lock, then sighed as she went into a depressive slump. The girl kicked at the floor before sulking down the corridor.

Further down and turning a corner was Patton, the Arctic Commander carrying a platter of cheesecake. He walked diligently, taking even strides. He paused mid-march as he noted Numbuh Eighty-Six heading in his direction. Unofficial protocol was to give Fanny a thirty-foot wide berth—forty feet if you were a boy—but he mustered his courage, and put on a polite smile. "Numbuh 86, ma'am. How goes it?"

Fanny raised her eyes to Patton's smile and growled. Without warning, her hand went for the platter of cheesecake and slammed it up in his face.

The trey slid to the floor to reveal the creamy, deadpan expression of Patton. "Well, hello to you, too."

"Stuff it, Patton," Fanny hissed. "Ain't in the mood for ye patronizin' right now."

"Duly noted," he grumbled. He looked to the ruined desert and groaned. "Did ya have to take it out on the cake? It was for Numbuh 362."

Fanny glowered at him, full of suspicion. "And why are you bringin' her cake? Wait—you sneaky little bootlicker! Yer tryin' ta butter her up for a promotion! Ye really are stooopid to think ye can bribe her!"

"I'm not trying to butter her up! I just wanted to—wait," Patton paused as he realized something. "Didn't you hear what happened to her hamster?"

Fanny raised a brow. "What hamster?"

Inside her quarters, Rachel made doubly sure her door was locked before stomping over to her cot. Her emotions were running high and she had enough on her plate without Numbuh Eighty-Six following her around like some lost puppy. Crossing her arms, she slammed herself onto her bedding and decided it was a perfect time to glare hatefully at the ceiling.

Unfortunately, her ceiling was littered with photographs because a younger, naive version of her thought she needed to liven up her Moonbase living space when she arrived a year ago. Doubly unfortunate for her was that the first photo she laid eyes on was of one of her at her graduation with Numbuh One-Hundred (who was gone. Gone, gone, gone) holding a cute, chestnut-furred hamster.

Tears welled up as she kicked herself up and walked away from the bed. Her arms held her torso to stanch the flow of waterworks. She walked aimlessly and found herself at a large hamster enclosure that took up half of the room.

Rachel hiccuped as she became acutely aware of how empty that enclosure was now.

A hand gently grabbed her.

She growled as she squeezed the owner's wrist and flung it over her shoulder, sending them crashing into her desk.

Rachel then gasped as she saw the crumpled body of Numbuh One among the wreckage.

"Whelp," the boy groaned, his sunglasses askew and red turtleneck covered with splinters, "I guess that's what I get for trying to sneak up on you."

"Nigel!" Rachel was at his side in an instant, helping the boy to his feet and straightening up his shades. "What in the world are you doing here?"

"I came to play hopscotch in zero gravity," he sarcastically replied. He dusted himself off and shot her a look. "What do you think I'm doing here, Rachel?"

The events of a few days ago leaped to the front of her mind, and she frowned as she made to unlock the door and usher the boy out. "Look, if it's about what happened at the Delightful Manor, then save it. Numbuh 86 won't shut up about it. I just want to be left alone right now—"

"I didn't come about Numbuh 206," Nigel interrupted as his voice was low. "I came about Bon-Bon."

Rachel froze, hand halfway to her lock. She blinked, pools of tears building as her mind whirred. "Bon-Bon…"

It was a standard mission. It always started as a standard mission before crud hit the fan. Intelligence said some no-name kid genius had built a weapon of mass destruction. Said kid was being watched and possibly funded by enemies of the Kids Next Door. It was up to her to go in, get answers, and shut things down before it could ever be a problem.

There was a death ray, but that was to be expected. There were ninja babysitters, but she had kicked weirder butts. Everything was going according to her perfect plan because Numbuh Three-Sixty-Two was the absolute best at what she did.

Then Cree Lincoln showed up.

Then things got bad. She got trapped, nearly drowned, and had to fight tooth and nail to just survive. But against someone as infamous as the once legendary Numbuh Eleven, Rachel might as well have been relying on blind hopes and unspoken prayers.

There was a fight. Rachel was good, but Cree was better. Rachel was ruthless, but Cree was savage in her assault. Rachel had been pinned down and Cree stood over her, aiming for the kill. Rachel had no secret gadget, no get-out-of-jail-free card, no ace up her sleeve to save her skin. It was over.

In that moment, Rachel forgot she brought along a furry miracle in her pocket named Bon-Bon.

Rachel forgot that her precious baby would do anything to protect her mama, despite how old and frail she was getting.

Rachel couldn't forget how Bon-Bon bit Cree's ear, giving Rachel the few precious moments she needed to escape.

Rachel would have nightmares about how she didn't reach Cree in time to stop her from throwing Bon-Bon over the side of a mountain.

Rachel would have to live with that because she wasn't good enough that Bon-Bon was gone. Gone, gone, gone.

Now she was alone.

"Rachel?"

She slowly turned, her focus returning to the present moment. She was at the Moonbase. She was tired. She was sad. She was fighting not to cry. She was a big girl.

Nigel's hand gently rested on her arm.

Rachel crashed into him and sobbed into his shirt.

The boy quietly yelped, the action taking him by surprise. Once his mind caught up to what happened, he gently embraced the girl, patted her back, and let her bawl into his chest. He looked over to the empty hamster enclosure, then closed his eyes sadly and held onto Rachel a bit tighter.

"She's gone," Rachel cried. The tears would not relent. Her face scrunched into what she could only imagine was an ugly grimace, and snot and mucus escaped her nose and were probably ruining Nigel's clothes, but even that embarrassment would not end the waterworks. "She's gone. It's my fault. I-I wasn't fast enough. I-I w-wasn't st-strong enough!"

Nigel closed his eyes, hugging his friend as she was racked with hiccups. "Don't say that. It wasn't your fault."

"It-it w-w-was!" Rachel said, voice hoarse and muffled in the crimson cotton of the shirt. "I-I b-brought her despite how old sh-she w-was. I-I m-made her sn-sneak in and turn off the lasers 'cause I-I didn't wa-wanna. Sh-She had to sa-save me because I-I w-was stupid!"

"You weren't stupid."

"I am! I'm the worst and stu-stupidest hamster owner e-ever! Stupid, stupid, stupid—"

A ginger-snap cookie was gently placed on her quivering lips. She blinked away the wet blurriness enough to see Nigel looking at her forlornly as he offered the treat. His expression was sad and pleading as he begged, "Please stop saying mean things about yourself."

Rachel sniffled, her hand taking the cookie, but not eating it. It was quiet as she calmed herself down. Nigel guided her back to her cot, and she let him sit her down easy before hopping up beside her. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to her. She accepted, and they sat in silence with the occasional blowing of her nose.

Nigel's hands rested on his knees, looking straight ahead with the occasional side glance at Rachel. For her part, the girl tossed the ginger-snap cookie between her fingers, her world focusing on it to push away the overwhelming grief.

Sitting there, just them and his presence, did more for her mood than she would ever admit to anyone. After five minutes of quiet, she broke it by softly asking, "How did you find out?"

"Numbuh 274 did a follow-up report once Numbuh 86 returned with you from the Delightful Manor," Nigel said. "But I caught sight of an addendum of the mission you just returned from before infiltrating Father's mansion. I…don't think I was supposed to see that and was going to ignore it. But something told me to give it a look, and well…"

Rachel mused over that information. As his unofficial second-in-command, Rachel knew Numbuh Two-Seventy-Four just didn't make simple mistakes like that. If there were details about her covert mission in the report, it was because he made sure to include it. As if he wanted Nigel to see it and put two and two together.

She did not know how to feel about it at that exact moment, but as she looked over to Nigel, the boy obviously concerned, she decided she might thank Chad later.

Rachel's heart felt heavy with gratitude mixed with sorrow as she looked at Nigel. Despite her initial reluctance to share her pain, she found solace in his presence. For a moment, she forgot the weight of her responsibilities, the loss of Bon-Bon, and the constant pressure of being a top spy in the Kids Next Door.

Nigel, sensing her need for comfort, wrapped an arm around her shoulders, offering silent support. The warmth of his embrace was a small beacon of light in the darkness of her grief.

"I miss her so much, Nigel," Rachel whispered, her voice barely above a hoarse murmur. "She was more than just a pet. Bon-Bon was my friend, my partner through thick and thin."

Nigel squeezed her gently. "I know. We had to say goodbye to Chubbo recently. Losing them is like losing a part of yourself. But you're not alone in this. We're all here for you."

Rachel nodded, a tear escaping down her cheek despite her efforts to hold them back. She leaned into Nigel's embrace, finding comfort in his unwavering support.

As they sat together in silence, Rachel's mind wandered to happier memories with Bon-Bon. She remembered the first time she held the tiny hamster in her hands, the joy they shared during their adventures, and the unconditional nuzzles and love Bon-Bon showered upon her.

"Wanna go to the cafeteria?" Nigel asked as he withdrew his arm. "It's not meatball sandwich day, but I'm pretty sure we can get them to make an exception."

Rachel wiped at her eyes. "I don't know. I'm kinda behind in my mission reports."

"Rachel, you've been through a lot. The fact you went on a mission right after losing Bon-Bon was overkill enough."

She snorted. "This coming from Mister Stay-up-for-six-days-straight to work on a defense grid?"

Nigel smirked as he lightly elbowed her. "So I'd know what I'm talking about, right?"

That got a laugh out of the girl. "Point taken."

Nigel hopped off the bed, making his way to open the door. "Come on then. It'll be my treat, and I'm not taking no for an answer—"

"NUMBUH 362!" Nigel slammed into the wall as the door was kicked open, a blubbering Fanny stomping in. The redhead didn't even notice the bald boy groaning in pain, her misty eyes centered on the blonde girl in front of her. Fanny sniffled. "I'm so, so, so sorry, lass. I just heard 'bout Bon-Bon. Ye got all that going on and then I go and mess up your day even worse, I'm sorry!"

Rachel winced, partly how Nigel was painfully and cartoonishly imprinted in the wall, and partly as she remembered how she took her frustrations out on Fanny the past few days. The girl's earnest remorse gave her pause. "It's okay, 86. I'm sorry too. For being such a jerk to you. You didn't know. Wait, who told you?"

"Word travels fast down the Global Command grapevine, sir," said the voice of Patton. The Supreme Arctic Commander marched in, carrying a tray of mashed-together cheesecake. He saluted with his free hand. "Sir, I came up to offer condolences and coconut cheesecake, sir!"

Rachel smiled awkwardly. Patton had gotten so professional with her since she now technically outranked him. Still, she was touched by his gesture. "At ease, Numbuh 60. And thank you."

Patton nodded as his posture relaxed. Nigel finally managed to pry himself from the wall, and Patton raised a brow at his appearance. "Oh, hey there, Numbuh 1."

Nigel straightened his sunglasses before offering Patton a firm handshake. "Numbuh 60, sir. Good to see you."

"Hey!" Fanny reeled on Nigel, her tears forgotten as she poked the boy harshly. "What are you doing here?"

Nigel frowned. "What? Coming to comfort a friend against the rules, now?"

As she watched Nigel and Fanny start arguing and Patton rolling his eyes, slowly, the weight on Rachel's chest began to lift, replaced by a bittersweet ache of nostalgia. She knew that the pain of losing Bon-Bon would never truly fade, but she also realized that she was surrounded by friends who cared deeply for her.

While her duty towards the Kids Next Door may have cost her Bon-Bon, with friends like Nigel by her side, Rachel found the strength to face the challenges ahead, knowing that she was not alone in her grief.

It would be tested again months later as the entirety of the organization suffered tragedy and loss. Rachel stood at the Global Command post, watching from on high as the Moonbase scrambled to return to some sense of normal after what they just survived.

Almost getting barbecued on the surface of the sun had a funny way of putting things into perspective.

Rachel looked to the Supreme Leader's throne, the chair now vacant. Her eyes glossed over. It should be Numbuh Two-Seventy-Four sitting in that chair. He should be there, ordering kids around, and guiding them through his mess with a smirk and the infectious bravado he carried.

But, she thought as her heart thumped nervously, it'd be impossible for him to do that now considering this mess was all his fault in the first place.

Her hands gripped the metal railing, steadying herself as she held back unshed tears. Numbuh Two-Seventy-Four was her idol. Sure, he was every operative's idol, but she was different. She watched him effortlessly take to being Supreme Leader after Numbuh One-Hundred's honorable decommissioning. He saved her from the Gorilla Gang with nothing but rage and a toothpick. She was flabbergasted as he took her under his wing, showing her the ropes of Moonbase life, how to wrangle Global Command when they started arguing over rainbow monkeys, and even how to get a free soda from the janky vending machine down on deck sixteen.

Numbuh Two-Seventy-Four was the best there was. He was everything the Kids Next Door embodied and every day she fought to live up to that example. Rachel wanted nothing more than to make him proud and get one of those special just-for-her thumbs up whenever she did something worthy of his praise. When the odds seemed unwinnable, he was there to give her the push she needed. When she stumbled, his steadying hand was there before she fell. When all hope seemed lost and they were ready to kiss their butts goodbye, Numbuh Two-Seventy-Four was always there to pick them up and remind them that the Kids Next Door never gave up.

"Top-notch work, Numbuh 362," Numbuh Two-Seventy-Four had once praised. He smiled, firmly grasping her shoulder. "Numbuh 100 would be proud."

"Thank you, sir. I'm trying not to let him down," she said, preening under the praise. "And I won't let you down, either!"

"I already know that. Takes a special kind of kid to keep up with me, after all," he said with a smirk. "The Kids Next Door will be just fine as long as you're around."

She recalled how her heart skipped a beat. "Uh, sir?"

"Hey, what's that look for? I ain't going anywhere just yet," he said, taking her into a playful noggie. Maybe if she had been more observant, she would've noticed the sad look under the fringe of his golden hair. "But should the unpossible happen, I can count on you to look after everybody, right?"

Rachel smiled. "Of course, sir!"

"Promise me, Rachel."

The use of her name gave her pause, and she hated how back then, it just took an award-winning smile to disarm her. "I pinky promise!"

Numbuh Two-Seventy-Four smiled. Not his classic smirk, but a soft smile. "That's my girl."

That had been a week ago. Now, Numbuh Two-Seventy-Four was gone. And out there, somewhere, Chad Dickson was on the run with Cree Lincoln. Now an enemy.

A traitor.

"Did you have it all planned out, even back then?" she whispered, glaring at the throne. Her fists trembled at her sides. They had all been played for fools. She should've noticed the signs. She should've been better. "Was I just another patsy to you? Some doe-eyed brown-noser to clean up your mess?"

Promise me, Rachel.

She squeezed her eyes shut, the sting of betrayal fresh as his last words replayed in her mind. Rachel wanted to run. She didn't sign up for this. Didn't ask for any of it. She should just leave. She was out of her depth. She wasn't good enough to—

"Rachel! You're alright!"

She was torn from her reverie by a familiar slightly cockney accent. Rachel saw Nigel bounding up the stairs to her, and she let the relief at seeing his face override any dark thoughts trying to rise from the recesses of her mind.

"Nigel," she said softly. He stopped a few steps below her, taking labored breaths. His concern was evident and it made her break out into a selfish little smile. "Calm down, soldier. I'm still kicking."

"You weren't listed when they did a headcount, so I thought…" he trailed off. He coughed into his hand, composing himself before going into a salute. "Just a bit jittery, sir. Glad to see you're safe and sound."

"Same to you, soldier." She returned the salute and smiled down at him. "You really came through for us, Numbuh 1. On behalf of the entire Moonbase, you have my sincere thanks and appreciation."

Nigel nodded. "I couldn't have done it without my team."

"Speaking of, how are they? Word is that they got wrongfully decommissioned before the truth got out. Please tell me my sources dropped the ball."

"Unfortunately, they were spot on. But everything is being taken care of. They've agreed to come back into active service, and Numbuh 86 said she'd even recommission them," he finished with an uncharacteristically thankful expression present as he mentioned Fanny. "I…wasn't sure she was allowed to do that."

Rachel wasn't even aware that Fanny could recommission someone, as it was unheard of. Thoughts of probing into that matter were filed away as she saw relief wash over the boy. She was glad. "Seems like you owe her."

Nigel groaned. "Please don't tell her that."

Rachel winked while miming zipping her lips. There was a moment of quiet. She just looked down at the boy, a warm feeling spreading through her chest as he held her gaze. From this angle, she could peek behind the dark shades to see his glimmering coal-blue eyes. She beamed at him. "I'm just glad everything worked out."

He almost nodded, but suddenly broke their eye contact with a frown as he looked out into the vastness of space. "Almost everything…"

It didn't take a genius like Numbuh Two by Four to know the same thought crossed their minds. She was reminded that Numbuh Two-Seventy-Four—Chad wasn't just her idol. Rachel recalled in old PENPAL messages how Chad had taken a special interest in Nigel during his cadet training. The prodigy had mentored the young Nigel, nearly teaching him every trick in the book.

Rachel was both relieved and saddened to know there was someone who could relate to her in this moment. "It still doesn't seem real."

"But it is," Nigel said, voice hard as steel. "He betrayed us all. Just like a teenager."

"And left us without a Supreme Leader."

The severity that littered Rachel's voice caused Nigel to pale a bit. "Oh no. Don't tell me that…"

Rachel confirmed his fears. "Once things have settled down…we might have to call a game of TAG."

Indecisive Time was pure madness. Worldwide, the Kids Next Door would be running around, screaming and crying as they did all they could to avoid being IT. Being Supreme Leader was a big job with a lot of responsibility. What sane kid in their right mind would willingly take on that role?

Being Supreme Leader meant you had to be at the Moonbase nearly every day and didn't get to go on cool missions anymore. You had to lead a gazillion kids with short attention spans, get everyone and their gerbil to play nice, and even had to share your best candy when a sector's stocks were running low. Rachel grimaced at the thought; being Supreme Leader was probably the most un-kiddy thing a kid could ever have to do.

Well, except maybe trying to unlatch the Moonbase and send it and everyone inside straight into the sun. She neutrally side-eyed the window. Thanks, Chad.

"I've never had to play a game of TAG, but I've heard horror stories." Nigel's murmuring snapped her back to attention. His hands started rubbing his temples in self-soothing circles. "Isn't there someone next in line? Maybe we can get lucky?"

Rachel looked over her shoulder, the empty throne vying for her gaze. They had gotten lucky. Once. Before his decommissioning, Numbuh One-Hundred had tagged Chad. There had been the initial panic, of course, but that evaporated pretty quickly when Chad made no move to tag anyone else. Every operative was left confused, even after noon had passed. Surely, a kid willingly becoming Supreme Leader like Chad did was once in a childhood deal.

Right?

"Numbuh 362?"

Rachel didn't respond to Nigel immediately. She fully turned to the throne.

Nigel rose a brow, stumped by how meek she had gotten. After a moment, he gasped. "Wait. Weren't you basically Chad's second-in-command?"

"I…" Rachel started but words failed her. The throne seemed to expand in size before her eyes, looming over her like a Boogeyman. She took a step back. "I couldn't handle it."

Nigel blinked.

"I mean, it's a big job. A humongous job. I'd just louse it up."

Nigel frowned, then took a step up the stairs.

"Me? Supreme Leader? Ha! Now that's a good one," she laughed, hysteria seeping into her tone as the empty command deck suddenly was way too crowded. "Could you imagine? They'd call for my decommissioning in the first hour? Heck, the first minute!"

Nigel joined her side, hands behind his back and expression neutral. "That sounds awful close to saying mean things about yourself, sir."

"But it's true," Rachel protested. "I'm just an operative in Covert Ops."

"You're the Best Spy in the entire Kids Next Door."

"I'm nothing like Numbuh 274."

"After today, I think that's a pretty good thing."

"Nigel, be serious. I'd be way over my head. What kid in their right mind would follow me?"

"I would."

Rachel snapped her gaze to him. "W-What?"

"It's your decision. Whatever you decide, I'll respect it. But I'm not kidding, I'd follow your lead anywhere, Rachel," he said wholeheartedly.

Rachel looked back at the throne, its position less intimidating. All because Nigel was at her side. If she was being honest, she really didn't want to do this. She loved being in the field. She loved getting her first pick of the best candy. She loved having rank but enjoyed the occasional moment she allowed herself to delegate matters to higher up. But Supreme Leader was the highest any kid could get. It sounded terrible.

But, a voice inside her said there was so much good she could do. There were so many ways she could help her fellow operatives. There were so many chances to make new rules and new guidelines to better help kids everywhere. If she took on this burden, it meant the safety and future of the Kids Next Door would remain intact.

Promise me, Rachel.

"Do you think I could pull it off?"

"You already know what I'd say," Nigel said. "But what matters here is what you think."

"I think," Rachel said as she closed her eyes and inhaled. She exhaled. She opened her eyes, smiling standing a bit taller. "I'm going to make some big changes around here. Better changes. For everyone."

Nigel smiled as he went into the most professional salute he could muster. Seriously, that posture would make Patton jealous. "I know you will, Supreme Leader, sir."

Rachel chuckled. "I'm going to miss working with you in the field, soldier."

He smirked. "You think some promotion is going to keep me out of your hair? I foresee plenty of cookie breaks in your future."

Rachel blinked, then let out another chuckle, albeit more nervous. Had he always been this brazen? He was surely something else. "Well, uh, heh, I-I'll hold you to that. Guess we really don't need to use the PENPAL anymore. Supreme Leaders can talk to whomever they want, whenever they want."

"Hmm, I don't know," he said with a cheeky wiggle of his brows. "Using the PENPAL when we're not supposed to does have its charm. Or so I've heard."

Unintentional flirtations or not, Nigel's suave was met with a panicked shove from Rachel before he could see her face light up like a Christmas tree. He went tumbling down the stairs, surprised and screaming obscenities no proper KND operative should ever speak. Rachel yelped as she sprinted down to frantically apologize and get him to the medical bay.

This boy was going to be nothing but trouble, she just knew it.

They didn't quite know when it happened, but they had moved to the edge of the sandbox. Nigel sat looking towards the skyline while Rachel was hunched over, opposite of him drawing aimless figures in the sand with a stick.

Nigel ruminated on old memories and Rachel's words. Looking back, she had shown him a lot of trust back then. In moments where she tried to hide away from the world and shy away from goals, she let him in.

"Guess pride is funny that way," he said. Rachel didn't turn to face him, but he heard her stick-wielding hand still. "Or maybe it wasn't pride. Maybe I was just scared things would change between us if you thought I wasn't as strong as I pretended to be."

Rachel snorted, returning to her drawings. "Isn't funny how things changed anyway."

Nigel tilted his head, frowning. "They have. More so now than ever."

Rachel closed her eyes, inhaling a deep breath. She knew what he was getting at. Perhaps it was time to stop beating around the bush. "I was wrong. I was more like Chad than I thought I was."

"Why are you doing this, Rachel?" He turned fully, looking into the sand. If he looked into her eyes, he wasn't sure he could handle what he saw. "After all those years, you're on the verge of throwing it all away."

"There's nothing left to throw away," she said quietly. "They've taken everything from me already."

"They?"

"Our oh-so-precious Kids Next Door," she snarled. "They take our childhood, they take our memories, our lives, and for what? One pointless wish on your thirteenth birthday before they wipe away the best years of your life or coerce you into giving up more."

Rage bubbled in Nigel. After everything, that was the best she could come up with? He had heard this story countless times before, and it always ended the same way. A bitter operative who thought they were owed something for their sacrifice. "So you'll put innocent lives at risk for some petty vendetta?"

Rachel's slowly curled her fists, her expression going cold. This was a waste of time. "Foolish of me to think you of all people would get it."

Nigel opened his mouth to retort, but a memory of a night not that long ago flashed before his eyes.

"Because you don't get it," he recalled Chad saying the night he let Rachel get away. The young man bent over the hood of his beat-up truck, a haunted look in his eyes. "If I would've let you catch her back there, she would've been just some bad guy of the week to you … There's much more to this whole ordeal than you know, and you need to know it all before this thing can finally end."

The anger faded away, replaced by regret for letting emotions run high. Nigel remembered Chad's advice and suddenly saw Rachel in a new light. It was so easy to see her as the enemy, a fugitive that needed to be stopped. But as he sat next to her, he was reminded of the girl he comforted after her hamster fell in battle. Nigel saw the timid operative who didn't think she was worthy of the position she was born for.

Even now, with her expression cold and ready to lash out, he saw glimmers of a girl hurting and holding back tears.

"Then…help me understand, Rachel." She reeled on him, face stricken clearly not expecting his response. Her eyes darted, desperately trying to suss out his angle, his ruse. He slowly raised his hand, pausing when she flinched. Locking eyes, he gently placed it down beside her, mere inches away from her own. "You're right. I don't get it. But that's why we're talking, right?"

Rachel's eyes snapped between Nigel's and his hand dangerously close to hers. This…this wasn't what was supposed to happen next. Despite her hopes otherwise, he was supposed to shut her out. The unshakable loyalty they indoctrinated him with would demand her in a cell before she even got a chance to explain. "What is this, Nigel?"

"A…long overdue cookie break, minus the cookies, I guess," he awkwardly joked. When she didn't budge, he made his expression earnest as he slid his hand a bit closer. "Let me…let me be vulnerable. Let me leave myself open, despite years of training urging me otherwise."

"Why would you do that now?" she asked, her voice hitching.

"Because I want to help you. If you'll let me."

Rachel's heart pounded in her chest, the weight of Nigel's words sinking in. For years, she had been hardened by her experiences, by the battles fought and the losses endured. She had built walls around herself, believing that vulnerability was a weakness she couldn't afford. But here was Nigel, offering her something she hadn't expected - empathy, understanding, and a chance to be heard.

Slowly, tentatively, Rachel reached out, her hand trembling as it hovered over Nigel's. She hesitated for a moment, the fear of rejection clawing at her, but then she decided to leap. With a shaky breath, she let her hand meet his, fingers intertwining in a gesture that felt both foreign and comforting.

Nigel's eyes softened. In that simple act of connection, he felt a shift in the dynamic between them, a bridge being built across the chasm that had separated them for so long.

"This isn't going to be easy," Rachel murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I know," Nigel replied, squeezing her hand gently. "But when is it ever?"

"It never is, but you don't—everything changed when I became Supreme Leader. I thought I had some idea of the hell it could be, but even my imagination didn't even come close," she admitted. "The things you find out…I finally get why Numbuh 100 just let himself be decommissioned. You play pretend. The worst game of pretend ever. You have to pretend to know what you're doing, pretend to have answers to everything, pretend to know why you had to put some kid's life ahead of another's." Her eyes glazed over as she took in the empty playground, the only anchor to reality being Nigel's steady grip. "You pretend so much you just … lose yourself. In the worst moments, I didn't even have me. I was alone."

Nigel shook his head. "That isn't true. You had friends. You had Fanny and Patton. You even had your brother."

"No," she whispered. "I was alone."

Another report marked 'super urgent'. Let's see, oh, Numbuh 302 stubbed his toe and was requesting to go home early. Yep, super urgent indeed.

A sigh. "Denied."

This looked interesting. A fundraiser? Charity work was fulfilling, she could get behind this! Was it raise money so the Decommissioning Squad could get fluffier pillows? Those kids worked hard. Maybe to gather funds to get higher quality sunflower seeds for the hamsters? She could totally get Numbuh Three to donate to that. Oh! Maybe they were finally going with her suggestion to pool allowance to help pay off school lunch debt across America! This fundraiser was going to be such a worthwhile endeavor. She could not wait to green-light this to—

Annnnnnd it's some flimsy veiled scam by Numbuh 'Crazy' Eighty to get funding for his Jelly-o-Matic jellybean maker.

An eye roll. "In the trash you go."

This form was to settle who got the last piece of gum between the Numbuh Forty-Four twins.

A snort. "Just flip a coin, guys."

This paperwork was about the rise in fatal paper-cuts.

A groan. "Next."

This one was about how cadet Maccay swore Numbuh Seventy-Four-Point-Three-Nine was a tree in disguise.

A blink. "…ignoring this."

And get this: this next one was Global Command asking how to break the news to Numbuh Seven-Forty's mom that her son was never going to come home. Geez, couldn't she get something serious to handle for once in her—

"Wait, what?" Rachel snapped up from the slouch in her chair. Her attention was solely focused on the report in front of her. As her eyes scanned the document, her face fell and her heart twisted the more she read on. "No…no, not little Omar."

Omar Bickes. Eight-years-old. Fresh off the academy as Numbuh Seven-Forty. She vividly remembered that boy. His bowl-cut hair, chubby cheeks, and tears of happiness flowing down his face as she entered his genetic material into the code module. She remembered how nervous he was during the after-party, and how she pulled him aside, promising and assuring him that the rewards and benefits of serving would only grow with each passing day. That this was the start of a new life for him and she'd watch his back the entire way.

Rachel's grip tightened on the report, her mind racing with a flurry of emotions. Little Omar, so full of hope and innocence, is now 'missing'. She knew what that really meant. Her heart ached for him, for his family, and for the loss of his bright future.

Setting the report down with a heavy sigh, Rachel leaned back in her chair, her thoughts consumed by memories of Omar's eager face on his first day at the academy. She had seen so much potential in him, so much promise. But now, faced with the grim truth of his fate, she felt a sense of helplessness wash over her.

Gathering her resolve, Rachel knew she couldn't let her emotions overwhelm her. She had a duty to uphold, responsibilities that extended far beyond her feelings. With a deep breath, she straightened in her chair, determination shining in her eyes.

But then it wavered, her hands shaking. The room was suddenly too stifling. The tower of paperwork loomed menacingly. How many more were reports about operatives like Omar? How many more tragedies would she have to sort through?

Overwhelmed, she reached for her computer, stroking a set of keys on her hidden PENPAL program by heart. When there was a series of rings followed by no answer, she panicked.

No. No panic! It was fine. It was fine. He must be super busy if he wasn't answering the PENPAL. Probably off on an important mission. Being dragged on another fishing trip with his dad. Or off with that girlfriend she had to find out about through Numbuh Two of all people—no.

No, she was not jealous because that was a silly girly crush that died during her first day as Supreme Leader.

It was cool. Cool, cool, cool.

But…she'll admit it wasn't cool he wasn't answering she really needed a friend to talk to.

But it was fine! If Nigel wasn't available, then she thankfully had a backup. Yeah, totally had other friends to confide in. Yep.

Reaching for her communicator, Rachel dialed Fanny's code, her voice steady despite the turmoil churning inside her. "Numbuh 86, I need you to come to my office immediately. There's something we need to discuss."

She would admit, she was surprised at how Fanny seemed to magically appear in front of her. Rachel blinked, glancing at the clock. Less than forty-two seconds. Huh, a new record.

"What do ya need, sir?" Fanny said, hands set in a rigid salute. She was trembling, but not out of fear. Excitement; pure giddiness, Rachel recognized. "Need me to scramble the DOH-DOH Squad? Mobilize the BOOSTBIKES? Get ye a soda? Whatever it is, lass, ye jus' name it and I'll get it done!"

Rachel's lips thinned. Fanny's adoration—borderline hero worship for her was palpable, almost suffocating at times. She placed Rachel on a pedestal, viewing her with unwavering reverence. And while Rachel appreciated Fanny's loyalty, she couldn't help but feel uncomfortable under such scrutiny. "Nothing…like that, Numbuh 86. I wanted to talk about—"

"Ah, geez, how stoopid of me," Fanny nervously chuckled. She rolled her eyes with a sheepish smile. "Of course, it ain't nothing silly like those things. Yer the Soopreme Leader, ye can totally get yer own soda! Ha ha, silly ol' me."

"Yeah," Rachel said slowly, suddenly not sure about this. She frowned. Fanny was Head of Decommissioning for crackers' sake, she could handle news of this magnitude. "It's about an operative—"

"Oh! Are we makin' Numbuh 23 the new leader of sector K? She deserves it, unlike that mangy boy in charge. Wait, is it about a boy? Ah, say less, sir. I'll whip the slacker into shape," Fanny exclaimed with a pound of her fist. "Point me in the right direction and I'll make the bugger rue the day he decided to tick ya off, sir!"

"Fanny," Rachel stressed with an agitated twitch of her brow. "If you would let me finish—"

"Ah! S-Sorry, sir! I didn't mean to interrupt ye, honest!" Fanny hastily apologized. As Rachel's face morphed into a full frown, Fanny smacked her helmet in a fit of flustered shame. "Dang it, I did it again! I'm so, so, sorry!"

Rachel sighed. "It's fine. Really."

"I'm jus' still getting used to it, is all. I mean, sure, it's been a few months, and forgive me for being so frank, but yer the Numbuh 362!" Fanny went on to gush. "It's always been a goal to work with you, the best girl operative ever, and now you're my super cool boss, and you trust me with all sorts of things and-and-and…" She stopped, taking a big breath before wrangling her hands together with a large smile. "It's just such an honor to call ye my Soopreme Leader, sir. Ye can handle anything!"

This.

This was why it was so damn hard to talk to Fanny.

Because she couldn't just talk to Fanny.

No, Fanny had to flower her with such high praise she didn't deserve. Rachel felt a pang of guilt as she watched Fanny fumble over her words, her enthusiasm almost painful to witness. She understood that Fanny's admiration came from a place of genuine respect, but it only served to deepen the disconnect between them.

She didn't want Fanny to see her as some infallible figure, but rather as an equal; a colleague, someone she could trust and confide in without fear of judgment.

But no, Fanny would never see her that way. Fanny would just see her as the perfect Numbuh Three-Sixty-Two who could do no wrong. Who can shoulder anything life throws her way.

"Oh, but what is that ye wanted, sir? Something about an operative?"

Rachel's heart sank as she watched Fanny brimming with enthusiasm and eagerness to assist. But as much as Rachel longed to confide in her, she couldn't bring herself to burden Fanny with the weight of such distressing news, lest she also bear the fact she disappointed one of her top operatives.

Suppressing a sigh, Rachel folded her hands, her resolve hardening. She couldn't allow her own emotions to cloud her judgment, especially when it came to protecting her operatives. With a forced smile, Rachel shook her head gently. "It's nothing urgent, Fanny. Just some routine paperwork I need Numbuh 65.3 to sort out."

Fanny's expression fell, a flicker of disappointment flashing in her eyes before she nodded obediently. "Understood, sir. I'll have him get right on it." Fanny's face shifted into a snarl, stomping out of the door yelling, "NUMBUH 65.3! GIT YER LAZY BUM UP HERE ASA-NOW!"

Rachel's heart grew heavy with the weight of the secret she now bore alone. But she knew it was for the best. Fanny idolized her and placed her on a pedestal she didn't deserve to occupy. Protecting her from the harsh realities of their world was the least Rachel could do.

Alone once more, Rachel turned her attention back to the paperwork, pushing aside the thoughts of Omar and the countless other operatives whose lives hung in the balance. She couldn't afford to dwell on what-ifs and maybes. As the Supreme Leader, she had a duty to fulfill, no matter the personal cost. And if that meant bearing the burden alone, then so be it.

But frustration and worry knotted in Rachel's stomach as she leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples. The weight of responsibility on her shoulders built each day. The safety and well-being of her operatives were her foremost concern. Yet, here she was, faced with the unsettling news of one of her own 'missing' in action.

How could an organization whose sole purpose was helping kids utterly fail at helping their own?

How could she fail? How many more will she fail?

"Sir, permission to speak?"

Rachel yelped, looking up to see Patton. The Arctic Commander was the epitome of military professionalism, almost to an adult-ish degree. Yet, she was thankful for his presence. While Fanny kissed the ground Rachel walked on, Patton saw her as a fellow commander. An equal.

She smiled. Surely he would understand. "Permission granted, Numbuh 60. I could use a break from all this paperwork."

"Glad to hear it," he said, voice steady as his hands folded behind his back. He seemed hesitant for a fraction of a second, then sighed. "It's about your brother, sir."

Rachel's mouth fell open. "What happened? Is he hurt? Is he ok!?"

"No. Nothing…like that," Patton said carefully, and his tone had Rachel suddenly wishing this was about Harvey being hurt. "With all due respect, sir, I feel my input regarding Numbuh 363's operative status was not…properly considered."

Rachel's eyes narrowed. "Not 'properly considered?'"

Patton held her stare. "Yes. I feel you were very…dismissive of my evaluation."

"Patton, cut the crud. What are you implying?"

He coughed into his mitts as he eyed the clock. "I'd rather we remain professional and stick to codenames while on the clock, sir."

Rachel threw up her hands and scoffed. "Ugh! Very well, Number 60. Please enlighten me as to what your deal is with my kid brother."

"My deal is that you deemed my mental evaluation of your kid brother inadequate!" Patton said, voice raising an octave. Rachel did not relent, so neither would he. "You know how seriously I take those, sir, and I call it like it is. Fact is, your brother was a terrible cadet!"

"No he wasn't!" Rachel snapped up, bracing against her desk as she stood glaring at Patton. "H-He aced all his exams, and you said that he showed great talent and potential! I've got it on camera!"

"You seem to be getting real selective with what I said, sir," he grumbled. "Cause I also said he was egotistical, selfish, hot-tempered, and throws tantrums at the drop of a dime!"

"So he's got a few quirks, who here doesn't?"

"Quirks? Numbuh 362, he goes off the handle the moment anyone touches him! We can't get a medical specialist assigned to sector W because they're all too scared to treat his boo-boos. Speaking of sector W assignments, don't get me started on how you made him a sector leader!"

"I didn't make him a sector leader, dingus! That was the Super Big Computer-ma-bob!"

"Well, it wouldn't have done it if you didn't bypass my psyche evaluation and green-light him for active duty despite how much I said it was a bad idea!"

Rachel rolled her eyes and waved her hand. "And I told you, I got a second opinion from Numbuh What's-Eatin'-Ya-Noggin-Heimer. He said it was fine!"

Patton scoffed. "Puh-lease. We all know that quack got his medical license from the back of a Rainbow Munchies cereal box."

"I don't care for your tone, Number 60," Rachel hissed. "Especially when it seems to be about badmouthing operatives you don't like!"

Patton stomped his foot, bristling with rage. "It's not about not liking Harvey! It's about how he's a danger to other kids and himself and how you just ignored that because of your stupid FAVORITISM!"

The room fell quiet, the mass of young operatives trying to listen from outside Rachel's door scattering at Patton's last remark. The boy himself realized he may have said too much when Rachel's expression went from furious to stoic in a millisecond.

Patton broke eye contact for the first time since they began arguing. "Sir, I…that was out of line and I'm—"

"Who trained you, Num-Ber Six-Ty?"

Patton had the good grace to flinch as Rachel stressed every syllable of his designation.

"I asked you a question."

Patton groaned. "Numbuh 1st Sergeant, sir."

"Indeed, Numbuh 1st Sergeant. Otherwise known as Cassandra Drilovsky." Rachel made a show of tapping her chin as if something just occurred to her. "Wait, Drilovsky? Tell me, is there a relation, Num-Ber Six-Ty?"

Patton sharply inhaled and said through grit teeth, "She's my sister, sir."

Rachel bopped her foreheard with a condescending laugh. "Oh, that's right! Your sister. That reminds me," she said before making a show of scrolling through her computer. She 'ah-ed' before slowly turning the screen to face Patton.

He blinked, puzzled as he saw the face of sector V's current second-in-command.

"Abigail Lincoln. Operative Numbuh 5, Second-in-Command of sector V. Passed her training exam with flying colors," Rachel stressed as she gave the screen a harsh smack. "Stellar field operative, I might add. But who was it that recommended her to the Kids Next Door?"

Ah. Patton's confusion melted back into annoyance. "Numbuh 11."

Rachel raised a hand to her ear. "Who just so happened to be?"

"Cree Lincoln."

"Who also is..."

"Her sister."

"Bingo! We have a winner! Speaking of sector V, I sadly recall the tragedy of poor Numbuh T. Tommy Gilligan. Brother to Hoagie Gilligan AKA Numbuh 2, one of our finest pilots and brightest minds when it comes to technological ingenuity. And ain't it weird how Tommy had such intimate knowledge of 2x4 schematics and designs before even joining us?" Rachel's hands flattened against her desk. "And the sacrifice of his future with us is something I will always honor, something's been bugging me. I do believe he removed his genetic material from our Code Module. Rules dictate that he must be immediately decommissioned. I can't help but notice that hasn't happened yet. Why is it that?"

Patton raised his hands. "Hey, that's Numbuh 86's department, not mine."

Rachel fluttered her eyes cutely and jutted her bottom lip."But I'm not asking Numbuh 86, am I?"

"Well, I dunno!" Patton shouted. "I mean, I guess the kid did save our butts, and heck, he wasn't even an operative for a full day. I guess that has something to do with it maybe?"

Rachel rolled her eyes and made exaggerated air quotes with her fingers. "You 'guess'?"

Patton got right up to Rachel's desk, slamming his fist down and leaning over to glare. "Then what's your guess, Miss-I-Know-Everything-Cause-I'm-the-Boss Pants?"

Rachel mirrored his expression, snarling right in his face so close, that their noses barely made contact. "I'm not here to debate the morals of this little club we have. I'm not even calling the kettle black, I might as well be Ms. Pot herself. But with how much the Kids Next Door seems to thrive on nepotism, when you yourself are aware of all the exceptions made around here, don't you dare come into MY office and question MY decisions just cause you think I play FAVORITES!"

In heated situations such as this, one might think it might be wise to take a step back and reevaluate when emotions weren't at a fever pitch.

But we are, at the heart of it, dealing with kids here.

"I will when you do and you're being a meanie about it!" Patton shouted, the tenor of his voice putting Fanny's to shame. "Tommy was different. Numbuh 5 was different. You were different! There's more to it than test scores, who their brother or sister was, or nepo-whatever you wanna call it! Some kids have what it takes and some kids should be skipped over faster than the Crazy Old Cat Lady adopts stray kittens. Your brother is a stinkin' flight risk! A danger to his teammates!"

It took everything in her not to sock him in the face. She didn't care if Patton had a point. She didn't care if sometimes Harvey did go berserk at the drop of a hat to the determinant of his team. Harvey was her baby brother.

Hers.

No one, not even the Kids Next Door would take him as long as she was around.

Rachel seethed. "You are WAY out of line, Mister!"

Patton snapped. "And YOU don't care about the well-being of any of your operatives."

Rachel reeled back. At those words, it wasn't Patton or even Harvey's face she saw.

It was the face of little Omar, whom no one would ever see again.

"How…" she whispered. "…how could you even say that?"

"BECAUSE THE ONLY REASON YOUR BROTHER IS STILL HERE IS BECAUSE YOU'RE THE SUPREME LEADER!"

When faced with an accusation such as that, it would be wise to take a deep breath and approach it logically. Not go off the handle and say something you are gonna regret.

But again…kids.

"AND THE ONLY REASON YOU WERE ALLOWED IN THE CADETS NEXT DOOR WAS BECAUSE YOUR SISTER LIED ABOUT YOUR ASTHMA!"

For some reason not even the nerdiest science nerd could explain, the entire Moonbase went silent during that one, tiny moment.

As soon as the words left her mouth, Rachel had the decency to look ashamed. Patton, for his part, went quiet too, leaning away from the desk as his face went blank.

The girl finally withered under the Arctic Commander's gaze, and he wasn't even trying this time. That information—that secret was something Patton had told her in confidence when he comforted her after losing Bon-Bon. She had sworn to him that she would take that secret to her decommissioning.

And to just throw it back in his face like that…

"Sir, we're going in circles, and there are probably better things you should be doing," he said, voice so detached and scarily calm. "I think we're gonna have to, what do the grown-ups say? Agree to disagree."

Rachel could only meekly nod, her mind running a mile a second trying to come up with an apology. But what could even begin to cover her massive faux pas?

"Permission to be dismissed, sir?"

"Granted," was all she could say. Ever the professional and dutiful boy he was, Patton went into a salute before pulling an about-face and marching to the door. His retreating backside was painful to see, and a voice, a nasty little voice she hadn't heard in a while, told her that if she let him walk out that door, he was gone from her life outside of being her Arctic Commander.

Forever.

"Patton, wait—"

He stopped, not turning around.

The second ticked on agonizingly slowly before he said, "Please, it's Numbuh 60 while on the clock, sir."

The door seemed to slam shut after his exit.

Rachel collapsed in her chair, pulling at her hair while grumbling hatefully at herself. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

The silence was stunning, not even the rumbling of the AC or jiggling of the overheard fan to tear her from her thoughts. This job, this entire thing that was Kids Next Door. It robbed her of the chance of Fanny seeing her as anything else but the superly awesome Numbuh Three-Sixty-Two. It just made her completely and utterly botch any friendship she once had with Patton outside a professional environment.

She opened her eyes and forced herself not to cry. It took away an innocent little face like Omar's.

Rachel slowly stood from her office chair, gazing numbly at Omar's report in her hand. She stared down at it, letting it float to the floor as her grip slackened. She blinked as it fell, then just stared at it.

As if on auto-pilot, she wandered out of her office, walking in a dissociated daze before finding herself on the command bridge.

Her mouth hung open slightly, looking around as the chatter of a buhmillion operatives morphed into a wordless symphony of blah-blah-blah. It was nosy. It was obnoxious but still did nothing to silence the dark thoughts running through her head.

Look at them all, they depend on you, the nasty voice that sounded eerily like herself whispered as she noted a couple of kids playing whizbee. And you gotta look after them. Each and every one. It's what you promised him, right?

The image of Chad before his betrayal flashed before her eyes. Did he want this for her because he believed in her? Or did he just choose her because he was finally fed up with it all?

Oh, don't be like that. Can't think thoughts like that. That's not what a perfect little girl would do, is it?

She blinked at the voice, recalling a meeting with her parents and her homeroom teacher. The adults were trading praises with each other. Her parents complimented her teacher's lesson plan—did they know Ms. Wrinklemeyer handed out extremely stressful pop quizzes like Halloween candy? The teacher marveled how her parents raised a responsible little girl—did the teacher count on Rachel's unresolved fear of her mom hitting her again if she failed, despite having never done so since that day at the mall?

Rachel remembered sitting there, quiet and nodding along as they told her how perfect she was.

Yes, perfectly perfect. That's what you are. That's what you have to be. It's what everyone expects. Your parents need you to be perfect, Fanny needs you to be perfect. Patton and Omar did too, and look what happened when you failed them.

Rachel walked to her command screens, flipping them on without even thinking. All at once, sectors from across the globe appeared, warring for her attention as she just stared dumbly at them.

See? They need you to be perfect, the voice kept saying. The entire Kids Next Door expects a perfect Supreme Leader.

Her eyes trailed across the screen, going down and seeing a whole numerical alphabet of sectors and their leaders. But her eyes stayed locked on one empty screen labeled 'V' and she prayed it would light up with a certain face, even if for one second.

He didn't ask for perfection. He'd probably hate how she was letting a voice inside her say mean things about herself.

But he's not here right now, is he? You gotta be a big girl now.

Rachel looked at the screen, slowly realizing that all those kids were desperately waiting on her. Despite everything she gave them, they kept asking for more.

What's the matter? The voice snickered. Gonna cry?

She clenched her fists. No. She would not cry. It was time to be a big girl.

"Okay. We're on it. Fine!" She started responding to the screen, letting instinct guide her as she slapped her face into serious mode. They needed her. Her Kids Next Door needed her. "Look, I don't care what level you're on, Numbuh 105; put that video game down and find out what Knightbrace is doing in Poughkeepsie!"

So what if Fanny put her on a pedestal? She'd live up to it.

Big whoop if Patton didn't think her brother was cut out to be an operative; she'd prove him wrong and then he would see.

Her heart mourned for little Omar, but she would steel herself and make his sacrifice worth it!

"Sector PDQ, I told you I want that broccoli farm shut down ASA-NOW!"

Look at you pretending like it matters. Like you can pull this off.

"Moonbase, out!" she forced out as she stepped away from the computers, ignoring the cries of 'come back!' and other whines. It DID matter. She COULD pull this off. They were all counting on her to pull it off. She—

—bumped into a stressed Numbuh Sixty-Five-point-Three who somehow managed to shove an entire stack of her forgotten office paperwork into her arms while frantically tapping her watch. "Sir! I needed these official orders signed 73.0 seconds ago!

Rachel frowned sadly. "I'm sorry, Numbuh 65.3—OW!"

A whizbee clashed against her colander helmet, causing her to drop the stack of paperwork. She glared at the offending operative.

"Hey, a little help, Numbuh 362?"

She groaned. It was fine. Kids would be kids. Kids she had to keep looking after. She shook off that thought as she tossed the whizbee back. "Would you guys mind playing Whizbee on the Whizbee deck and not on my bridge!"

"Uh, y-yes, sir-ma'am!" the boy gulped before running to his friend. "Hey, dude, go long this time!"

Rachel grumbled, bending over to sort through the mess. "I can't believe this."

What did you expect? They're a bunch of kids who don't know any better. Did you know any better when you signed up for this?

Under her breath, she snarled for the voice to shut up. She knew what she signed up for. She knew what she would lose. She'd lose Saturday morning cartoons. She'd lose sleepovers...

She didn't think she'd ever lose Bon-Bon…

But she could handle it! She could—

"Sir!" Numbuh Sixty-Five-point-Three ran back in front of her. "What about those papers that need authorization?"

Rachel rubbed the back of her head. "I—"

"Numbuh 362," another girl whined—not whined! She just needed help, Rachel tried to tell herself. "Sector B is under attack by angry history teachers!"

"Sir!" Yet another brat—operative, she corrected—ran up. "The cotton candy machine is filled with ants!"

"Can you tie my shoelaces?"

"Does this helmet make my head look fat?"

"Do you have my permission slips?"

"Can I go home early?"

Surrounded. She was surrounded by a bunch of crybabies who needed her to hold their hands because otherwise they were useless—no!

That is not what was happening!

She was just stressed because this was a lot but she would HANDLE it.

She would!

Are you sure?

"U-Uh-huh. Okay! I'll get on that…" she said, voice filling with anxiety as they just kept coming. "Yeah, I'll try—OW!"

Everyone snapped their mouths shut as Rachel fell victim to yet another whizbee.

"…a little help, Numbuh 362!"

"THAT'S IT! I want EVERY Kids Next Door operative at the Kids Next Door Super Convention Center for a quint-topelate-portanic super secret meeting at 0500!"

A warm weight collided with his hands, and he responded with a gentle push.

Seconds passed, and that weight returned and he simply pushed again. And again. And again.

Nigel watched as Rachel went higher and higher with every push of the swing. His feet were steady, expression thoughtful as he let the girl pour her heart out. The warm weight of her back rested against his hands again, and he almost let himself enjoy the innocence of the act before remembering what was at stake.

He took one step forward, a bit more force behind his shove, fueled by a desire to see her fly among the stars trying to dot the evening sky. "Sounds like a lot."

Rachel soared, fingers loose around the straps of the string as she closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of floating. Or freedom. All too soon she came tumbling down, expecting to meet a cold, harsh reality. Instead, she was met by the hands of Nigel as he caught her. She smiled to herself, stealing this one little moment. She opened her eyes, and the smile was gone as they stared up at the moon.

"A lot doesn't even describe it," she said softly. "When I enlisted with the Kids Next Door, I felt like I had so much to offer. Training to become a spy? Exciting. Hanging out in ginormous treehouses, playing with hamsters? Count me in. Going on covert missions and being hailed as a hero? Thrilling. I eagerly anticipated it all; every single aspect. I didn't fully understand the ins and outs of everything, but I knew I was making a genuine difference and helping kids. Because that's the right thing to do, isn't it? And it's what they expect from you." she paused, a flicker of introspection crossing her expression. "I had a blast, formed meaningful relationships, and impressed everyone around me. I never considered it more than just having a good time. I didn't grasp the true gravity of it all."

Nigel looked away, painfully aware of how much this mirrored a conversation he had with Chad a few nights ago. He closed his eyes with a sigh. "Then one day, that all changes. You see it's not a game anymore."

Rachel leaned her head backward, gazing up into Nigel's eyes. The two locked onto one another. They shared a tender silence before Rachel broke it by saying, "Maybe you do get it."

"Just paraphrasing something I heard," he said. He then shook his head. "Or…maybe I'm not giving myself enough credit. It was all fun and games for me too. I lived for the mission, for the thrill of it all. I never wanted it to end."

"But at some point, it does." She looked away as he pushed her again, the girl desperately trying to chase that high she experienced moments before. "I gave up my innocence so people like Fanny could keep theirs. I wanted to look out for everyone, even when Patton tried warning me it was impossible and did more harm than good. I wanted to make everyone happy even if I had to make myself miserable. I kept giving and losing and losing. At one point, I would've offered to stay forever."

Nigel waited to catch her on the return, holding on a bit tighter as the momentum of the swing died. He looked down at her. "Not everyone stays in the Kids Next Door forever, though."

Rachel let out a bitter laugh. "I couldn't bring myself anymore. It left me alone."

Despite himself, Nigel said, "You had me."

"I did, didn't I?" she smirked. "My loyal little soldier. Always there to offer an overdue cookie break and believe in me when I didn't. Always there to grind my gears and leave me huffing just to keep up."

Nigel returned her cheeky look. "To be fair, you'd been out of the field for a while."

Rachel flicked his nose. "In another world, that would've been you eventually. Numbuh 1, Global Tactical Officer."

Nigel chuckled. "In another world, I would not have minded the change of pace."

"I'd be lying if I said I still don't daydream about that other world," she admitted quietly. She looked away with a frown. "Yet here I am, stuck in this one."

Nigel frowned as well, painfully retracting his hands. "I couldn't imagine leaving my team behind, at the time."

"I didn't have to imagine it," Rachel said as she stood. "You're right Nigel I had you." She gazed hatefully at the stars. "And then you left."

"Thanks, Rachel but…I think I'll pass this time."

That would be the last thing he said to her. At least in a capacity that didn't have to do with Kids Next Door business.

And boy, did it sting.

Looking back, she couldn't blame him. For weeks she grappled trying to make sense of that night. She could count the number of times on one hand she'd ever seen him so down. The number would be even smaller if she considered the times she was partially to blame.

Hah. Partially. She was totally to blame. She had been dragging him around the entire day on a wild goose chase, hunting after dead-ends and false leads. And it cost him dearly. The patience of Lizzie Devine had limits, and that night was the last straw. Guilt ate away at Rachel, long nights of staring at her ceiling fan reprimanding herself for her decisions that day. She should've known better.

Nigel loved Lizzie. Nigel was happy with Lizzie. That day was important to Lizzie, yet Rachel couldn't let it lie.

The Splinter Cell seemed so close. It was worth the risk, she reasoned. As her most loyal operative, Nigel had to understand where she was coming from. The Splinter Cell was a danger to everyone. It was a threat she needed to stop, and she couldn't do it without him. At least, that's how she reasoned it.

It was a flimsy lead. A red herring at best. Numbuh Sixty-Five-point-Three was a model operative, what on Earth made her suspect him?

Or maybe, she mused darkly, it was never about him. Maybe somewhere, deep inside, a twisted part of her saw an opportunity. Rachel knew it was an important day for Lizzie. She could've asked anyone. Patton, Fanny, and even Numbuh Five if she needed someone from sector V.

But Nigel could never ignore a mission. Could never turn down the Kids Next Door. And wasn't she, as its Supreme Leader, the living embodiment of the Kids Next Door?

Maybe it was never about the Splinter Cell. Maybe it was just wanting, just once, for Nigel to choose her over…

Rachel curled into her blanket that night, cocooning herself off from the world. She bitterly chuckled. Hypocritical of her to demand Nigel get his priorities straight when she hadn't sorted out hers in a long time.

But she tried to make it right. She truly did. Rachel had gone to Lizzie's house in person to explain things, beg her to give the boy a second chance. But the house was weirdly barren, apparently just been sold and strangely, it seemed Lizzie had dropped from the face of the Earth.

Rachel then went to sector V's treehouse, making excuses ranging from random check-ins, surprise root inspections, heck, even seeing if they were feeding the hamsters properly (Numbuh Three took great offense to that, she recalled).

But the face of sector V was always an awkward-looking Numbuh Five, easily cooking up obvious lies of how 'busy' her leader was and how 'she'd get him to call you later, baby!'.

Right. Even Numbuh Four could see Nigel was avoiding her.

If unofficial channels wouldn't work, then official ones seemed the best bet.

"Just following up with that Caramel magic mess, what was up with that? Need to debrief me?"

"Hey, there are rumors that the Teen Ninjas may want to propose some sort of Treaty. Want in on the intel, soldier?"

Despite every leading question, every juicy hook she could devise, his reply was short, to the point, and lacking any indicator he planned to continue the conversation outside of mission specs.

"Numbuh 5 took point. It's been handled, sir."

"Negative. Best leave it to Numbuh Infinity. I'm not one for diplomacy, sir."

After about two months of that, she decided, fine.

So be it.

If he wanted to keep it professional, she would!

So what if they promised to invoke cookie breaks if one worried about the other?

So what if he completely shut her out despite all the times she let him in?

So what if he just put on a face and only thought of the well-being of the Kids Next Door?

She was Supreme Leader, she could do all that and more. Better than he could.

Looking back, maybe she had been a tad upset. A bit jaded. Scorned, even.

But what else was she supposed to do!? If he wouldn't respond to her as a friend, then maybe he'd have to deal with her as a Supreme Leader. And as Supreme Leader, she needed to stop looking at him as Nigel and look at him as an operative.

An operative, she decided one random day, just couldn't seem to get back with the Delightful Children's cake in one piece.

Maybe it was bad karma. Perhaps it was a cruel jinx, but every time sector V was sent in to retrieve the cake it either ended up blown up, shredded, or worse, pooped on. The evidence did not lie, and neither did the plummeting success rate. Operatives were suffering from icing withdrawal, and as much as she wanted to let sector V do what they did best, she couldn't ignore those failures.

She couldn't play favorites anymore.

"Look," she remembered frowning and building up the courage to stare him down in person for the first time in months. Of course, this is how they would finally reunite. Her having to replace him like a worn-out tire. "I think it's time to take you guys off the case."

"What?" He was furious. Outraged. Insulted, but she kept her expression steady while he snarled. "My sector is always in charge of liberating the cake from those delightful dorks!"

"And it's your sector that always loses it!"

Rachel had the decency to at least wince at Harvey's bluntness, even if no one present noticed it. As he continued to demean the veterans in front of him, Rachel began second-guessing bringing him in person. This felt…rude. Like rubbing salt in the wound. She was not blind to her brother's reputation nor ignorant of the two sector leaders' absolute loathing for one another. Nigel and Harvey, the two most prominent boys in her life at the time, were always at each other's throats.

She should've handled this more tactfully. More respectfully in lieu of Nigel's distinguished record. Letting her brother give him a verbal lashing in front of his team was humiliating. She should've stopped it.

"And just who the crud are you, beaver teeth!?"

But Numbuh 4 grabbing Harvey by the scruff of his hand-me-down sweater ignited a protective surge in her belly. Logic and sensibility were moot after that point. She couldn't help the need to flaunt sector W's mission success rate ever since her brother was put in charge. She felt compelled to defend Harvey, defend her choice of allowing him in their ranks.

It was brash, it was distasteful, and she remembered being angry. Angry at Numbuh Four for bullying her brother. Angry at sector V for not getting the job done.

Angry at Nigel for shutting her out and forcing her to do this.

"You and your team are off this mission, Numbuh 1," she spat, hands on her hips while Nigel's team held him back. Harvey came up beside her, smug as a cat lounging in a sunbeam. She ignored it, her gaze solely on the bald boy. "Is that clear?"

He was confused. He was bewildered. She hid her flinch at how hurt he seemed. "But—"

"Is that clear?"

"Yeah, Numbuh 1," Harvey parroted beside her, "is that clear?"

Nigel tore away from his team, taking one purposeful step forward. Despite Harvey's jeering, it wasn't him he stared hatefully at in that moment. "Yes," hissed through grit teeth, his look centered directly on her.

She ignored the pang in her chest and simply nodded. "Good."

Had she known that would truly be their last interaction, she would've taken it all back. She wouldn't have rubbed her title in his face like she ruled the world. She wouldn't have been so petty or spiteful.

She would've caved and let him eat cake all he wanted if it meant she could've at least gotten the chance to say goodbye.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON'T KNOW WHERE HE IS!?"

She went home that night, calming down and realizing perhaps she had been a bit too harsh. First thing in the morning, she planned to make amends. Compromise. Sure, sector W were up-and-coming stars, but the Delightful Children were big leagues. Maybe a joint sector venture would be the better way to go. She'd reign in her brother's snarky attitude and remind him of why Nigel was originally in charge of the cake missions in the first place.

Too bad she never got that chance. She had been awoken to Global Command in chaos. Half the science division didn't report in. The cake was apparently in the KND's possession yet somehow not at the same time, and everyone and their freaking dog was out on some worldwide scavenger hunt?

What in the name of Zero was going on?

Coming to the Moonbase just posed more questions. Numbuh Sixty-Five-point-Three wouldn't shut up about how Numbuh Seventy-Four-Point-Three-Nine had usurped command or something. Numbuh Thirty-Five was going on and on about how her brother wanted his sector decommissioned for treason; it was a flipping fever dream.

It turned into a nightmare when Fanny told her sector V was there to report in.

Rachel's heart sank when she only counted four of them and noted how Abby had donned a painfully familiar pair of sunglasses.

"It's just like Numbuh 5 said, sir," Abby said, her tone far too somber for Rachel's liking. The new sector leader—no, second-in-command because Nigel was just hiding somewhere to screw with her—"In all the craziness…we lost track of him."

"How the hell do you lose track of your sector leader!?" Rachel was fuming, too incensed to care at Kuki's gasp at her language. Her voice echoed through the tense atmosphere of the command center, her rage and panic unmistakable. She paced back and forth, hands clenched at her sides as if her sheer will could conjure up answers to the calamity unfolding around her.

Abby shifted uncomfortably under Rachel's intense gaze, her eyes darting briefly to the floor before meeting Rachel's again. "It's... complicated, sir," she began, her voice strained. "We were in the middle of the mission, and then everything just... spiraled out of control."

"I told him you guys were off the—GRRH!" Rachel stopped pacing, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinized Abby's expression. "Start from the beginning," she demanded, her voice commanding yet laced with concern.

Abby took a deep breath, steeling herself before recounting the events that led to Nigel's disappearance.

"Not you," Rachel interrupted, ignoring Abby's scandalized protests as she snapped a finger towards Kuki. "You."

Kuki squirmed. "Uh, m-me?"

"You were all there, right?" she asked, snapping a glare in Abby's direction, daring her to say something. Abby growled, but Rachel pressed on. "What exactly happened, Kuki?"

Kuki Sanban was many things. Being slick on the spot was not one of them. The girl was the resident airhead of sector V, the youngest of the team. Just a silly little girl.

Abby had all her bases covered. Hoagie was cunning when he needed to be. Wally was too stubborn to betray his friends' secrets.

But Kuki?

Oh-so-innocent Kuki would undo everything. She'd poke holes in her team's farce of a cover story. She'd let something slip whether she wanted to or not. Abby thought she was so smart, but Rachel was smarter. Rachel smirked because she was better—

"We were on our way to retrieve a lead on the cake from the Delightful Children's mansion when everything went haywire," Kuki explained. Her voice trembled with emotion, but there was not one unintentional fumble in her speech. "There was a disturbance with Father, and before we knew it, Numbuh 1 was gone."

Rachel's face mirrored that of a goldfish. Kuki…

Kuki gave her nothing.

How did she…

A sinking feeling settled in the pit of her stomach.

"Gone? What do you mean, gone?" Rachel pressed, her voice tinged with desperation.

Kuki hesitated, her gaze flickering to her teammates before meeting Rachel's eyes once more. "I mean... he vanished, Rachel," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "One moment he was there, and the next... he wasn't."

A heavy silence descended upon the command center as Rachel absorbed Kuki's words, her mind racing with a million different possibilities. "We need to find him," she declared, her voice resolute. "No matter what it takes."

Sector V shared a collective, hesitant cringe.

Rachel was near hysteria. Nigel was missing and they acted like they wanted to do nothing?

Hoagie coughed into his hand. "I…I don't think that—"

"I'm not ordering you to think," Rachel yelled. "I'm ordering you to get out there and find Nigel!"

Fanny took a hesitant step forward towards Rachel. "Lass—"

"What is wrong with you people!? An operative is missing!" She was Supreme Leader, yet here they all were, acting like her authority meant nothing. "Mobilize the DOH-DOH Squad. Scramble the BOOSTBIKES! You have your orders, SO GET OUT THERE AND FOLLOW THEM, DAMMIT!"

The command center emptied at breakneck speed. Fanny seemed torn but ended up saluting and halfheartedly shouting for her old troopers to move out. Hoagie, Kuki, and Wally shared nervous glances before antsily shuffling back towards the hanger bay.

That only left Rachel, panting and on the verge of a breakdown, and Abby who despite it all, just shook her head in sympathy.

"Rachel," Abby started, and Rachel scowled in her direction. Abby ignored it, keeping her voice soft. "You know…you know he wouldn't go if it wasn't for a good reason."

"I'm only going to ask you one last time, Lincoln," Rachel said roughly as she marched into the girl's face. "Where. Is. He?"

Abby gave her a look Rachel could only register as pity. "You gotta understand—"

"What I understand is you're either trying to coddle me from the truth of why you somehow can't tell me why he's gone," she whispered, voice hitching at the thought that maybe it was that simple. Just like little Omar, Nigel was gone gone, and Abby wanted to spare her the heartbreak.

But something in the other girl's eyes… Abby wasn't like Nigel. She hadn't mastered the art of hiding every little emotion behind those sunglasses. No, Abby was fresh at this. There were hints. There were tells. It was those tells that assured her Nigel was not dead, and Abby was keeping dirty little secrets. "Or you think I'm an idiot—think I'll buy that 'vanished' malarkey, and won't tell me why he's gone."

"Numbuh 5's not tryin' to call you an idiot, sir," Abby said, but it seemed her patience was waning as she adopted a frown. "But she thought maybe you were a bit smarter so you could realize that maybe this is bigger than all of us."

"Don't act all superior to me, Lincoln," Rachel snarled. "Especially when it seems out of the two of us, I'm the only one who seems to care about her friend!"

That was the wrong thing to say, as Abby reacted as if she had been slapped. Rachel tried to formulate why that would be, but Abby, quick as a whip, lashed out and shouted, "Oh really? Funny how much you cared yesterday when you booted him from his mission and basically let your brat of a brother undress and smack him around in front of his own team!"

The Moonbase was tense. Silent as the two girls glared at one another. Finally, Rachel managed to bite out, "Get out of my sight."

"Gladly," Abby spat. She turned and stomped away. "We'll talk when ya decide to get that stick out your butt. 'Til then, if y'all need anything official? Tell Numbuh 86 that sector V's new leader is on stand-by, baby."

"And I better not see you until sector V's real leader is here to explain himself!" Rachel hollered back. Abby paused, raising a hand. Whatever retort she had, she deemed it not important, and simply continued down the corridor.

And then there Rachel was. Completely and utterly alone.

The adrenaline faded. The rush of anger had passed. She was exhausted, posture shaking as she glanced out into the cold empty void of space as one singular thought repeated ad nauseam in her head and the truth sank in:

Numbuh One was gone.

Nigel Uno was gone.

Nigel was gone.

"SIS!" Behind her, the clattering of a door rang in the background and the stomping of sneakers against the refurbished steel floor got closer. "My team are a bunch of no-good backstabbers!"

Rachel barely recognized Harvey's presence. "Oh?"

"Yeah! They disobeyed me and gave all our stuff for the scavenger hunt away!" the boy raved, swinging his arms around in a fit. "They cost me the cake!"

Rachel blinked, things starting to get blurry. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"They're the ones who should be sorry!" Harvey growled, oblivious to his sister's trembling. "Them and that stupid Numbuh 1!"

At the mention of sector V's former leader, Rachel gasped, though it came out more akin to a strangled sob.

"That big fat jerk! He thinks he's so cool, so important, so gi-huge-ic-ally epic. The only epic thing about him is how epically big his BUTT is! But I'll show him! I'll show everyone that I'm way better than he'll—" Harvey stopped as he finally noticed Rachel had stopped responding. He frowned, moving in front of her to continue his justified rant.

Only to look horrified as he saw tears quietly flowing down Rachel's cheeks, some droplets caught in the stray, disheveled golden locks of hair sticking to her face.

"…Rachel?" Harvey whispered, his whole tangent from before pointless as his big strong sister broke down in front of him. He whimpered. "Are…are you ok?"

Rachel sniffed as she fell to her knees. "No, Harvey, I am not okay."

She buried her face in her hands, her palms muffling the broken sobs that racked her entire frame. Harvey's eyes darted around, and he gingerly shuffled up to his sister, patting her back and consoling her the best he could as her entire world fell apart.

Nigel's hand kept a steady grip on the railing of the merry-go-round, pulling the device along as he walked in a somber circle. Rachel sat on the platform, back leaning against the railing Nigel guided along while her bangs obscured her eyes. The device gave metallic squeaks of protest upon every full rotation, but even that couldn't tear the two away from their thoughts.

A knot formed in Nigel's throat as he took heed of Rachel's account of his departure all those years ago. At the time, he thought he was the farthest thing from her mind. She was the Supreme Leader, and top dog in all of the Kids Next Door. There must have been a million and one other matters more important to him at the time.

How foolish he had been.

He quietly stepped onto the platform, the last of his meager momentum carrying them as he took a stance beside Rachel. His lips thinned. "I didn't think you'd miss me."

Rachel's face was still hidden. "I did."

Rachel briskly marched through the command center. Eyes speed-reading the report in front of her before balling it up and chucking it to the side. She didn't have time to decide what flavor the ice cream rations should be this month.

"Numbuh 362! Numbuh 9-2-5 won't let me call my grandma to wish her happy—"

"Not my concern," Rachel snapped as she swerved around the young boy. She rose a brow as she read another report. The decommissioning squad tracked down that sector she was convinced was a part of the Splinter Cell. Finally, she—and they were just sneaking off to a Doctor Time-Space Convention. Idiots!

"Numbuh 362! Numbuh 44a won't give me back my Yipper Cards! He's being a total—"

"Do your job instead of playing stupid card games. That's an order," she growled as she flipped through more papers. More dead ends. More cold cases. How had they just freaking disappeared out of thin air?

"N-Numbuh 362?"

Rachel blinked, arching a brow at the cadet that clutched at her bruised knee. The small pig-tailed girl sniffled. "I-I got a boo-boo."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Numbuh 86? Take her to med-bay. I don't have time for this."

She marched onward, ignoring the injured cadet's cries and how Fanny looked at her backside, gobsmacked. The redhead huddled up to the small tot, muttering soothing hushes as she watched Rachel bury herself in the reports she refused to let anyone else see.

A thoughtful look crossed Fanny's face. After a moment, she frowned and nodded determined. Looking up, she caught the attention of an operative passing by. "Numbuh 35, can ye take the wee lass to Boo-Boo-Bay six, please? I got somethin' I need ta do."

Bartie Stroke blinked. It was rare to see Fanny so calm, so serious, so willing to use the word 'please' when asking something of a boy. But as he looked at the retreating Rachel, his look softened. Things had flipped here in the past few months. He turned to his Global Tactical Officer and saluted. "Aye, sir."

Fanny gave an appreciative nod before jogging up the stairs to Rachel. She hardened her expression before saying, "Sir, a word?"

Rachel stopped and peered over her shoulder. "Any updates on that matter I told you to look into?"

Fanny shook her head. "No, it's about—"

"Then get back to it. I needed results on my desk yesterday," Rachel grumbled. It almost turned into a growl as Fanny gripped her shoulder and forced her to stop. "I don't make a habit of repeating myself, Numbuh 86."

"Well, ya sure seem to be makin' a habit of being a jerk, lately!"

Rachel's expression momentarily caught between annoyance and surprise at Fanny's boldness. Her brows slowly knitted together. "Excuse me?"

Fanny winced. The words just came out without her thinking. But she didn't take them back. No, this needed to be done. "Lass, ye ain't been yer'self lately, and it's been worryin' me somethin' fierce."

"Please elaborate on how me doing my job is worrying, Numbuh 86."

The command center buzzed around them, operatives darting back and forth, walking on eggshells around the two. At that moment, all attention seemed to focus on the confrontation between the two leaders.

Fanny squared her shoulders, meeting Rachel's gaze head-on despite the flicker of uncertainty in her own eyes. "It's not about ye doing yer job, sir. It's about how you're doing it. Ye've become... cold, distant. It's not like ya."

Rachel's jaw tightened, a flicker of emotion passing through her eyes before she quickly masked it with a steely resolve. "I'm simply ensuring that this tub remains operational once I'm gone, Numbuh 86. We can't afford distractions or weaknesses, especially with the looming threats I won't be here to hold your hands for."

Fanny shook her head, her voice firm. "But what about us? What about the bonds we've formed, the camaraderie that's kept us goin' all these years? You're shutting everyone out, sir. And it's not just affecting you, it's affecting all of us."

Rachel's jaw clenched, her patience wearing thin as Fanny continued to challenge her authority. The command center seemed to shrink around them, the bustling activity fading into the background as their confrontation intensified.

"We're wasting moonlight, Numbuh 86," Rachel snapped, her tone sharp and biting. "If you have nothing constructive to add, then I suggest you return to your duties."

Fanny's expression fell, a flicker of hurt crossing her features before she masked it with a steely resolve of her own. She reached out a hand. "I'm jus' tryin' to help, Rachel. We're…friends, aren't we, lass? We're in this together, remember?"

Rachel's eyes flashed with frustration, all too reminded of the rank between her and this doting little girl who kept licking her heels like a co-dependent kitten. Her resolve hardened as she turned away from Fanny, dismissing her words with a wave of her hand. "I have more important matters to attend to than your sentiments, Numbuh 86. Now, if you'll excuse me."

Fanny's hand fell limp at her side as Rachel left her behind.

The door to her office slammed shut, and Rachel threw down the documents she had amassed. Resentment bubbled inside her. Of course, now Fanny would grow a spine in her presence. Only took her five flipping years!

But it was too late now. Fanny needed to come into her own. Had to fight her own battles without coming to Rachel for the go-ahead. Fanny's precious Numbuh Three-Sixty-Two wouldn't be around to coddle her much longer.

Rachel flopped in her seat, cracking open a can of root beer and shot-gunning it as she pressed a button and set the windows to privacy mode. The room darkened, and her fingers drummed as she glared out into the shadowy corner. "This had better be important, Numbuh 9."

From the shadows, Maurice stepped into her line of sight, feature laces with concern. "I come at a bad time, sir?"

Rachel scoffed. "Sir? That's rich, considering how much you teenagers have restricted my access to your operations."

Maurice held his hands up defensively. "Hey, it ain't like that. You know there are just precautions we gotta take the closer Supreme Leaders get to thirteen. And believe me, you're still my Supreme Leader, sir. And off-the-record? I'm worried about you, girl."

Rachel groaned. "You sound like Fanny. I assure you, I'm fine. Just getting everyone ready for the transition."

"You sure?"

"You're here. Why?"

Maurice rolled his eyes but figured it'd be best to table his concerns for another time. "I'm here to warn you about Numbuh 206."

Rachel blinked. She hadn't thought of that loser in a while. "Last I heard, he went off the grid."

"And now he's back. Sees an opportunity with the power imbalance that's been going after that last cake mission," Maurice said, choosing his words carefully as he brought up the latter incident. "Sources say he's making a play to usurp The Steve and gain control of Teen Ninjas by doing something big."

"Let me guess," Rachel droned apathetically, "He's gonna try and win 'em over by exploiting his old Covert Ops access codes to try and sneak in the Moonbase, take me out, and cripple the line-of-succession in one fell swoop. Then, with everyone in a tizzy, he'll do what The Steve couldn't do and finally take out the Kids Next Door."

Maurice raised a brow.

Rachel took a moment to lazily file her nails. "I was the Best Spy, y'know. Jerk never did get over that, now that I think about it. Has probably been laying low and planning this for years. Perfect cookie-cutter 'revenge'. He always was unoriginal."

Maurice coughed awkwardly in his hand. "Well, uh, how do you wanna handle it?"

"I'll deal with it. If he's predictable as he is power-hungry, he'll try and be all dramatic and do it on my birthday," Rachel yawned. "Was that all?"

"I'm also here about the favor I did for you. Thought it best to deliver the news in person; we found Numbuh 74.239. He's part of Teen Covert operations now."

Rachel snapped up, eyes wide. "Where is he? Has he said anything? Spare no detail—"

"Numbuh 362, sir! Open up!"

Maurice stiffened and Rachel wanted to strangle something. She pressed a finger to her lips as she glanced a the teen spy. He nodded, crouching into a dark corner as Rachel glided across her office. She cracked the door open to see Patton's frowning mug. "Numbuh 60, you of all people should be able to read a 'Do Not Disturb' sign."

Patton kept his gaze steady. "We need to talk."

"Then we will talk later," Rachel stressed. Preparing to close the door. "I'm busy."

Patton stomped his boot down to keep the door open. Rachel was almost amused by his audacity.

Almost.

"Sir, forgive me for being so frank, but you are being a complete doo-doo head," Patton said, getting straight to brass tacks. "I know Numbuh 1 going AWOL hurt. Heck, I miss the bald twerp too. But just because he's not here doesn't mean you get to take it out on everybody."

Rachel's grip on the door tightened, her knuckles turning white. "Your point being?"

The boy spluttered. "M-My point—your friends are worried about you, Rachel! I'm worried about you. You don't gotta go through this all by yourself!"

Something stirred in her chest, but then she recalled her last serious interaction with Patton all that time ago. Her gaze hardened as she kicked his boot out of the way, and before he could recover, she said, "Being a leader means taking on burdens so others don't have to. You'd be wise to remember that. And for the record, it's Numbuh 362 while we're on the clock, Patton."

Maurice silently watched as Rachel slammed the door shut and locked it. She stood there, arms stiff at her hands and hands balled as she glared at the floor. There was a long, quiet minute that passed, and finally, Maurice heard subdued and defeated boot-clatters walk away from the door on the other side. The boy frowned, running a hand through his dreadlocks.

He didn't quite know what to say. He felt had no right to even say anything. For years, he had been a loner. Carrying the heavy burden of finding the source of the teen's chicken pox, so much so, that he officially requested to be taken off of sector V. He shut out friends, loved ones, and even family as he pursued his crusade. It wasn't about him, it was about the safety of his fellow kids everywhere. He had to give up everything if I wanted to ensure they all had a future free of pox.

But as he looked at Rachel, he wondered how wise all that was. Wondered if, maybe he should've asked for help when the water got too deep. Should he reach out now to Rachel before the undertow swept her away?

"Numbuh 74.239," Rachel murmured, still not looking his way. "Did he…does he know what happened to Nigel?"

Maurice looked away, burying his hands in his pockets. "He doesn't." Rachel spun on her heel, and he raised his hands to silence her oncoming tirade. "I'm serious. When I found him, he was fumbling around, barely stringing two words together. Our scientists think he was partially decommissioned. He's recovering, but he doesn't remember anything that happened that day."

Rachel's mouth fell agape.

"If it helps…he assured us that whatever happened to him, he must've undergone it willingly. He believes wherever Numbuh 1 is, he's safe."

Rachel snarled. "H-He's lying! He's obviously part of the Splinter Cell!"

"Rachel," Maurice sighed. "I know it's hard to believe, really; but I don't think there even is a Splinter Cell."

"There is! There has to be!" Rachel then paused, eyes narrowing in suspicion at the teen.

Maurice thankfully noticed and held his hands up again. "Hey, no. I'm not yanking your chain here. I'm still on your side. I pinky-swear."

"Fool me once, shame on you," Rachel said despondently, reminded of the last person who made a pinky-swear to her. "And you know something."

Maurice's lips thinned as he debated his next words. "…I do."

"Then tell me!"

"I can't. Not yet," he said. "Sir, it's like I said before. There's… precautions we gotta take, you know that. But you're almost there. I'm vouching for you, but it's up to you to prove to them you can still join us. You gotta keep it up."

"What more do they want?" Rachel screeched, pulling at her hair and stomping around the room. Frustrated tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she would not cry. She was a big girl. She would not cry. "I'm doing everything right, aren't I? I'm doing everything I'm supposed to, all for the stupid Kids Next Door so they can be safe! What else do they want? They took Bon-Bon, they took my life, they took Nigel—"

Two comforting hands fell on her shoulders. She didn't turn around, didn't say anything as Maurice steadied her. All she could think about was how he wasn't who she wished it was in that moment.

"Trust me, I know what it's like," he said. "We…lose a lot, doing what we do. But you gotta remember what it's all for. Bon-Bon, Nigel…they knew the risks and did whatever they had to do anyway. For you, for all of us. Don't lose sight of what they sacrificed for."

Rachel lowered her face, bangs hiding the storm of conflict raging in her eyes.

"But they wouldn't want you to suffer like this," Maurice said. "If it's too much, if you don't think you have any more to give, then you don't have to do this. You don't have to make yourself miserable."

Rachel stared at the floor. Maurice was right. She remembered the day Numbuh One-Hundred gracefully stepped down after giving them all the best years of his life. She remembered his screams as his memories were washed away. She remembered the curious obliviousness as his younger sister took him home. She remembered being hopeful when she was privileged to be trusted with knowledge of the so-called 'Teen' Next door and having those same hopes dashed when she found out Numbuh One-Hundred turned down the offer for a chance at a normal life.

Not everyone stayed in the Kids Next Door forever.

But she had to. She had to get the answers she needed.

"Thank you, Numbuh 9," Rachel finally said, schooling a smile and looking up at the older boy. "It's been hard, not gonna lie. But you're right. I do know what it's all for. And it's why I'm going to see this through."

Maurice smiled back. "Whatever you decide, I'll lend a hand and follow your lead, sir."

I'd follow your lead anywhere.

Pain flashed in her eyes as those accented words wafted through her mind.

Despite her efforts, Maurice noticed as his worry returned. "Hey, why don't we call it a day, huh? We'll go grab some grub. On me." He rubbed the back of his head. "Like a, uh, taco break!"

Rachel looked towards her desk. "Thanks, but, I have some last-minute work I need to do."

Maurice opened his mouth to protest.

"But!" Rachel cut him off with a wag of her finger. "Only for ten more minutes. Once they're up, I'll pass the baton to Numbuh 86 and take the first shuttle home." The boy looked skeptically until she extended her pinky. "Pinky-swear!"

That won him over and he returned the gesture. "Alright. But hey, you have my cell number. Call if you need anything, cool?"

"Cool," Rachel reaffirmed with a friendly smile. She watched as the teen slinked back into the shadows, disappearing as mysteriously as he arrived.

Once she was certain she was alone, she dropped her practiced smile, expression going neutral as she undid the fingers she crossed behind her back. Turns out those theater lessons Dad made her go through paid off after all.

She returned to her desk, leaving the privacy windows down as she poured over reports. Possible Splinter Cell sightings. Suspicious anti-adult activity against confirmed neutral parties. Anything to tide her over until the day she would finally get the answers she needed.

And so it would be during her last month. Fanny followed orders to the letter, no more empty attempts at friendship Rachel had to ignore. Patton never bothered trying to seek her out privately again, just static salutes until he put in his two-week notice as Supreme Arctic Commander and would let her know his suggestions for a replacement.

Rachel ground the preconceived fantasy of the 'Moonbase Trio' into dust as Fanny and Patton finally wised up. It was for their own good. They needed to be hardened for what came next. The two were shoe-ins for Teen Covert Operations and she needed them to be ready for the potential realities that the job entailed. She wouldn't be around to directly help them much longer.

They would be mad. They would be bitter, but she would make it up to them later. Perhaps when they all worked together again, when they got to see what went on behind the curtain, they might even thank her.

It was something to look forward to, at any rate.

She did everything expected of her. She did everything by the book and the Kids Next Door was set up on a golden platter for her replacement.

A replacement, she thought with a frown, who truly was the best fit for the job. Now if only she could think of a way to get Numbuh Five to wake up and smell the roses. Though all sector V seemed to care about these days was slumping around their treehouse, lost without a certain paranoid bald boy to whip them into battle stations.

Her mind was saddened at the thoughts of Nigel. Her eyes flicked over to her computer. Her hand moved of its own accord, scrolling through the organized desktop to find a hidden program she hadn't touched in so long.

There was a knock at her door.

"Come in," she said, folding her hands as a nervous-looking boy teetered in with a manila folder of paperwork. "What needs my attention, Numbuh 65.3?"

Herbie tugged at his collar, face sheen with apprehensive sweat. "Uh, w-well, sir, it's about a lot of, um, hugely important leadership positions that are about to, er, be up for grabs."

Rachel hummed before responding. "Yes, I'm aware."

"Oh! Then, uh, have you put forth a list of recommendations?"

"Sadly, no. None of the candidates presented to me seem a good fit," she said as her eyes looked out the window, taking in the hustle and bustle of a tightly run Moonbase. Her tightly run Moonbase. "Numbuh 2x4 has done wonders leading the Deep Sea Science Lab, but he's a bit stifling. We need someone with a creative spark to liven things up once he's gone." Rachel's eyes hooded over as she inspected her nails. "Numbuh 1st Aid runs a squeaky clean ship at the Medical Boo-Boo Grove, as she should. It's a very important and crucial outpost to manage. However, I feel her replacement should have a more approachable bedside manner. We want the kids there to feel welcomed, after all." She sighed. "With that in mind, I haven't seen anyone that fits those qualifications."

Herbie anxiously fiddled with the folder in his hands. "And, uh, what about the Arctic Base?"

Rachel allowed a sad look to cross her face as she looked at a dusty photo at the corner of her desk. Moonbase Trio indeed. "I trust Numbuh 60. I'm sure whatever candidate he proposes will get the job done. Just waiting for him to send the recommendation to me."

Herbie gulped." Uh, h-he already did."

Rachel slowly raised her head to stare at Herbie. "I beg your pardon?"

"Y-Yeah. H-He sent it to me. And, um, if we're being honest here," he said, the sweat rolling off him in waves, staining the pits of his shirt. "T-The candidates I've been sending you? T-They're kinda, um, t-the back-ups in case you d-didn't like my preferred ones."

Rachel's face remained neutral as she moved her eyes to the folder in his hands. "And I assume your 'preferred' candidates are in that folder?"

Herbie meekly nodded.

Her brow started to twitch as he remained still. "Well?"

Herbie hurriedly shuffled and slid the folder her way, then backed up and raised his hands, as if bracing for an incoming beating. "Justpleasedon'tbeupsetwithme!

Her tenure as Supreme Leader granted her the unique ability to decipher the squeakiest of inane nonsense, and she wasn't quite sure how she felt about it. She opened the folder. "Why would I—"

Inside the folder were only three files. Three recommendations for the Head of Deep Sea Research, Head of Boo-Boos Nurse, and Supreme Arctic Commander respectively.

Hoagie P. Gilligan Jr, Kuki Sanban, and Wallabee Beetles.

Ah.

"I know they're not your favorites right now!" She registered Herbie panicking to justify himself as she read the dossiers. "And I know they haven't been performing all that well s-since Numbuh 1 disappeared, b-but the Big Computer-ma-bob concurs that they would—"

"They would be perfect for these roles," Rachel finished with a nod. "Good work, Numbuh 65.3"

Herbie opened one eye, still crouched defensively. "R-Really?"

"Really."

"…really, really?"

"Really, really," Rachel sighed. She closed her eyes and ran a hand through her hair. "I…understand your hesitance. My open-door policy hasn't been as open as it used to be. That is of no fault of yours."

"Oh," was all Herbie could say. The boy visibly relaxed. He seemed a bit embarrassed, apparently getting all flustered over nothing. "Thank you for understanding, sir. I'm just sorry it took me so long. But, um, if you don't mind me asking, how do you plan to get them on board with such short notice? You … you only have a few days left and I don't know how willing those guys will be to split up after everything that's happened."

Rachel considered the files again. Herbie had a point. While they did nothing but mope the past while, they moped as a well-glued unit. Perhaps she should seriously consider the backups. Their genuine depression over their leader's absence cleared them of her Splinter Cell suspicion. Perhaps it was best to let it run its course, and then let sector V do what she knew it could do best.

"Being a Kids Next Door operative is more than just playing with hamsters or hanging out in a treehouse all day. Kids out there need us and it means that sometimes we gotta make tough calls and get out of our comfort zone."

Rachel closed her eyes, remembering Numbuh One-Hundred's words.

The Kids Next Door needed sector V. Even if they couldn't be sector V anymore.

"I'll take care of it," Rachel said. She opened her eyes. "Anything else?"

Herbie saluted. "No, sir. I'll leave you to your work."

As the boy retreated, something gnawed at Rachel. She puffed her cheeks, willing herself to stay quiet. But just as the boy was about to leave, something in her won out, and without thinking it through, she said, "Herbie. Wait."

Herbie paused, taken aback Rachel used his name for the first time since…well, ever, now that he thought about it.

"I just wanted to say…" her voice trailed off. She regarded Numbuh Sixty-Five-point-Three. Sure, he was nowhere fit for field duty. The kid was a poindexter, through and through. But he was their poindexter. The kid who loved alphabetizing the kajillion filing cabinets, the kid who was first to volunteer for mindbogglingly boring mission monitor duty, the kid who did all the lame-sauce, office desk work not even she wanted to do, but it was work that had to be done or else everything would fall apart.

At that moment, there was so much she wanted to say to him. Perhaps not to just him. For some reason, when she saw him, she thought of the entire Moonbase staff.

She thought of Numbuh Thirty-Five, the boys on the whizbee deck, Numbuh Change For a Twenty, the Forty-Four twins…

She thought of Fanny. She thought of Patton. Her two-thirds of the unofficial Moonbase trio. She thought of all the things she should've said to them these past few months. Things she should say to them before it was far too late.

Rachel hardened herself. It was already too late to say those things. For now, Herbie would have to do.

"I just want to say that you've been a model operative. Thank you for everything you've done for me."

Herbie blinked, moisture collecting behind his glasses. He sniffled before puffing his chest and going into a salute so proud, so rigid, she was shocked Patton wasn't in the background gazing upon the boy in pure awe.

"Thank you…Rachel. It means a lot to me," he said, voice quivering. "A-And I just wanna say…I know you've been going through it. I'm not blind. Your happiness quota has dropped a concerning 23.938%. But I know you've been putting all of us before yourself, whether some of the operatives can see or not. You…you're a true inspiration to kids everywhere, and it's been an honor." Swelling with emotions, he raised his fists into the air and shouted. "KIDS NEXT DOOR RULES!"

Rachel stared at the boy and then looked down slightly. "Dismissed, Numbuh 65.3."

When Herbie finally left, Rachel held her head in her shaking hand. Breath short, she scrambled to her computer. Frowning, she opened the sector reassignment protocol. Numbuhs Two, Three, and Four were getting promotions, whether they wanted them or not. There was no hesitation when she sent the order through.

Now, all there was to do was wait. Numbuh Five was due back from her holiday any moment. It would then only be a matter of time before she came running to the Moonbase. Rachel tried centering herself, preparing for that confrontation she knew was not going to go over well.

Seconds turned to minutes. Minutes turned to hours. Meditation would not take. Inner peace would not find her. Only turmoil and angst festered in her soul as the clock ticked, ticked, ticked away. Despite herself, she shakily went to pull up an old program on her console.

: WELCOME CADET TO KND P.E.N.P.A.L.

: WOULD YOU LIKE TO CONNECT? Y/N?

: CONNECTING. PLEASE STAND-BY

: WE'RE SUPER SORRY BUT YOUR PENPAL CAN NOT CONNECT

The screen illuminated Rachel's face as she scrolled down through the chat log.

supahspy_362: You missed Meatball Sandwich Day. Again lol

operativeUNO1: Drat! I'll have the computer make it a mega priority. It won't happen again.

supahspy_362: Uh-huh :P

operativeUNO1: And stop using emojis! What are you, a teenager or something?

supahspy_362: XD XD XD ;)

operativeUNO1: Very funny.

supahspy_362: I'm hilarious.

supahspy_362: Hey. One: it's Meatball Sandwich Day. Two: come to the Moonbase. It's important—never mind, I see you're in the hangar haha.

supahspy_362: Um, hey. I just wanted to check-in. I'm really sorry about Lizzie. Want to talk about it?

supahspy_362: Stopped by the treehouse. Numbuh 5 said you were busy and said she'd get you to message me back. Are you okay? I'm worried.

supahspy_362: Nigel. Talk to me. Please. Don't make me order you.

supahspy_362: PLEAE ANSWR. IMMEDIATLY. THEY SIAD YOUR GONE BUT THIS IS SOME JOKE RIGHT? IM SORRY I TOOK YOU OFF THE CAKE MISSION PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE ANSWER ME!

supahspy_362: Listen here, I'm on to you. All of you. I know you took him. I don't how you did it. I don't know how you got his team in on it, but you can't fool me. I will find him. And if I can't? I will find you. Numbuh 74.239. Numbuh 274. Even you, Numbuh Infinity. I'll find you, dismantle your precious little Splinter Cell brick by brick until there's nothing but ashes left. I'm going to make all of you pay. Every. Last. One.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a passing comet. Calling on the last of any childlike whimsy she had left, Rachel prayed to a distant million stars as she slowly typed in one final wish.

supahspy_362: please come back

Her finger trembled before pressing enter. She sharply turned away as the last message was sent, hands gripping the arms of her cushy chair as she stared at her pinboard. A lot of personal flair and charm had been lost, but a few photos remained: her, Numbuh One-Hundred, and baby Bon-Bon on graduation day. Numbuh Two-Seventy-Four shaking her hand as she was made head of Covert Operations. Harvey crying tears of joy as she inducted him as sector W's leader. Her, Patton, and Fanny managing to come together for Eighty-Six's first official day as Global Tactical Officer. And one blurry picture of her and Nigel Uno cheekily smiling for the tabloids as they were caught eating meatball sandwiches in zero gravity.

The memories were overwhelming. It…it wasn't fair.

Why did the Kids Next Door give her so much only to take it all away?

Did she do something wrong? Was she being punished?

Was she not good enough?

Her computer beeped.

Rachel nearly fell from her seat at the speed of her rotation. Her soda was knocked away, spilling on the floor as she opened the transmission."Oh my god, is that you, Ni—"

"Um, hey, sis."

It was Harvey. The boy had made a habit of calling her often as of late. He smiled, expression nerve-wracked. The young sector commander was totally out of his depth, but he kept trying anyway. He coughed into his hand before slowly waving. "Happy, uh, early birthday."

Rachel blinked as she leaned back into her chair. She darted her eyes around as she returned his awkward smile with one of her own. "Thanks, Har—I mean, Numbuh 363. Did you have an update for me or something?"

Harvey kicked a loose board on the floor as he fumbled over his words. "No. Uh, was just checking in, on ya. Ain't that what good little brothers do? Heh heh, um…"

Rachel…didn't need this right now. She knew Harvey meant well. Truly. But his reaction was exactly why she could never allow weakness in front of someone like him or Fanny. One little cry session, and he was all over her. Smothering her with undeserved attention. She was supposed to take care of him, not the other way around. She was the big sister; the big girl.

"I…appreciate it, Numbuh 363, but everything is fine," Rachel said calmly. "You don't need to worry about me."

Harvey frowned. "Well…are you free then, maybe? You haven't been home in a long time. I was thinking we could, uh, hang out, you know? Do something fun together before…you know."

Oh, she knew what would happen after her 'decommissioning'. But he didn't. He could never know. They wouldn't allow it.

She shook her head. "I don't think I have time, Harvey."

"T-Then make time!" he protested. He went off screen, returning hauling a stuffed piggy bank. "I-I gave my team the day off because, y-you said they deserve it and maybe they do. A-And I've been saving up my allowance so I c-could take ya to the Cheesecake Factory! W-We don't gotta be boring leaders today, or even Numbuhs 362 or 363! I-I can be Harvey, and y-you can just be Rachel, m-my big sister!"

Rachel took a sharp breath. Harvey was venturing into uncharted waters here. All for her sake.

It…

Maybe…maybe she should…

Her personal flip phone buzzed, and she couldn't stop herself from reading the message. The sender was Numbuh Nine.

206 SPOTTED ON MOONBASE! HIGH ALERT! AM ON MY WAY NOW!

Ice chilled her veins as she read the message over. She looked out her window, all the kids ignorant and happy as she desperately searched shadows. She wiped out her communicator. "Numbuh 86, come in!"

She was met with static.

Harvey was getting nervous. "W-What's going on?"

Rachel snarled as she looked at the calendar. Numbuh Two-o-Six was early. The jerk! "I gotta go. End transmission."

"Rachel, please—"

She ignored him, using super secret bypass codes to pull up live footage of the Moonbase. Her eyes quickly roamed over screens, searching for a familiar, vibrant shade of red and green. Relief oozed from her pores as she noted Fanny was alright, but then cursed as she noted she was currently chatting up Patton…

…who was not only here when he wasn't supposed to be, but had also brought along Numbuh Ten of all people, what the fudge!? Just more potential causalities she had to save, thanks, guys!

Rachel turned on the sound, wondering what on the Moon they could possibly be talking about. They seemed to be talking about coming to her office.

Something about an 'intervention'? Just what was their deal—

The conversation they were having, probably about her well-being, some small voice of reason whispered, was shunted to the background as Rachel noted something moving in the rafters above Fanny, Patton, and Numbuh Ten. Her heart stopped as she recognized a familiar insignia and the traitorous sneer of Numbuh Two-o-Six before the feed went dark.

Oh, that rat bastard.

Rachel leaped over her desk, twirling mid-air at least three times before landing into a sprint. Her momentum was halted as her door opened to the furious snarl of one Abigail Lincoln.

"Oh, hello, sir," Abby seethed, hands violently twitching at her sides. "Just the girl I wanted to see."

And apparently this was happening now too. That was just super.

"Numbuh 5, I know you're upset, but now is not the time," Rachel said with a roll of her eyes as she made to walk past her. "Follow me, we'll talk about your team later—"

Abby slammed her fist into the wall, the length of her arm blocking Rachel.

"Nu-uh, baby. We're talkin' now."

Rachel stopped for a moment. But only just a moment, because for Rachel, it had been a good long while since the leader of sector V dared to challenge her authority.

Unfortunately for Abby, there was only one leader of sector V who could get away with challenging Rachel's authority, and despite wearing his sunglasses, Abby was certainly not him.

Rachel sternly stared into those dark lenses. "Listen to me—"

"No! You listen to me," Abby said as she shoved her finger into Rachel's chest. "How dare you re-assign my entire sector without telling me. I tried playin' nice with you. I tried to understand what you're goin' through, then you go behind my back and do this? This is low, girl."

Rachel forced Abby's arm down. "You're a smart one, Numbuh 5. Surely, you realize this is all bigger than you and your team—"

"Shut up!" Abby slapped Rachel's hand away. "Don't try and spin this back on me! Instead of just talking to me, you went and schemed behind my back like a coward, and for what? Just to get back at me for things outside my control!?"

"It's not like that! You and your team have just moped around like a bunch of sad babies! I'm giving you all a chance to get off your butts and do good. It's for the betterment of everyone!"

"You must think I was born yesterday! You don't give a flying flip about what's good for us; you just wanna be an opp!"

"Abby, please," Rachel was losing what little grip on sanity she had left. This was wasting time. Numbuh Two-o-Six was here. Her Moonbase—her kids were in danger and Abby was ruining her plans to keep them all safe! Rachel peered into those sunglasses again, desperately wishing their original owner were here to take her side. "Nigel wouldn't want you guys to—"

SLAP!

Rachel's cheek was most likely stinging, but she didn't feel it. She was numb to it all as her head was forced to the side.

"Don't you dare bring him into this," Abby hissed as she lowered her hand. "Nigel cared about us. Nigel cared about you. Nigel cared about the entire Kids Next Door and everything we stand for." Abby leaned in close. "He cared more than you ever did."

Rachel gave up her normal life to enlist.

Rachel left her old sector behind to protect them by joining Moonbase Covert Operations.

Rachel lost Bon-Bon to stop a mad scientist from destroying them all with a death ray.

Rachel lost her reputation by being a good big sister and letting her brother join because she believed in him.

Rachel lost out on a chance to develop deeper bonds because Fanny and Patton could not see her behind her rank.

Rachel missed out on summer vacations, sleeping in on weekends, going out for ice cream, cheesecake, and going to Doctor Time-Space fan events.

Rachel was robbed of the best years of life a kid could have.

Rachel gave up everything she had for the Kids Next Door.

But she didn't care?

"You know what, Numbuh 5? You're right," Rachel said as she tenderly touched her red cheek, a twisted gleam entering her eyes as she stared down at Abby. "Let's talk."

Was smacking Abby around, tagging her in, and locking her in a broom closet a reasonable solution to getting the girl to accept being her successor? Nope.

Was whistling while the entire Moonbase descended into chaos, kids panicking and scattering over the game of TAG and her using that as a distraction to waltz into the armory to equip herself to deal with a traitor a reasonable course of action? Certainly not.

Was using low-grade MARBLEs to strategically seal off Global Command from Two-o-Six, causing a ton of collateral damage but ultimately keeping them safe unnecessarily excessive? Extremely.

Was ignoring Fanny's betrayed sobs and Numbuh Ten managing Patton's sudden asthma attack while simultaneously cursing Rachel out like a sailor—dang, the potty mouth that ran in Nigel's family—and offering no explanation for the rationale for her sudden motives smart? To be honest, it was stupid.

Was beating Numbuh Two-o-Six senseless, slamming his face into the decommissioning plunger longer than necessary while he screamed bloody murder, then stuffing him into an escape pod and sending the memory-addled traitor crashing into The Steve's house to send the Teens a message a bit overboard? Yes, but it felt good.

Did Rachel, later that night, locked in her room—painfully aware of a bawling Harvey on the other side, not believing his sister would betray everything they stood for like that—sit and stare at the moon, and regret how she threw her month-long, carefully matriculated plan and her legacy down the drain and fell back on explosive theatrics as her grand exit as Supreme Leader?

She would tomorrow.

But at that moment, she decided she didn't care.

After everything she had given up, she was owed a little fun.

I'd follow your lead anywhere.

"Even now, soldier?"

Nigel's heart clenched at Rachel's admission. For so long, he had convinced himself that his absence wouldn't matter to her, that she had moved on without him. But hearing her say those words, raw with emotion, shattered that belief.

He reached out tentatively, his hand hovering over her shoulder before finally resting it there, offering what little comfort he could. "I'm sorry, Rachel," he whispered, his voice heavy with regret. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Rachel didn't respond immediately, her shoulders still trembling. Finally, she lifted her head, her eyes red-rimmed but determined. "You left without a word, Nigel," she said softly, her voice laced with pain. "You shut me out completely. I didn't know what to think."

Nigel felt a pang of guilt as he met her gaze. "I thought I was protecting you. All of you. That's why I felt I had to leave," he admitted his voice barely above a whisper. "I should have trusted you enough to tell you the truth."

Rachel snorted. "The 'truth' wouldn't have mattered, Nigel. Because even then, it was all a lie. A lie to me." She looked up, locking her eyes with his. "A lie to you, too."

He furrowed his brows. "What do you mean?"

Rachel's gaze hardened. "The Splinter Cell."

"Rachel, there never was a splinter cell. It was just a cover for—"

"It doesn't matter what excuse they gave or what they called themselves. Galactic Command, Important Ones; it's just different masks for the same faces," she said. "You think I don't know about their mission? Their fight against the 'disease' of adulthood. They still want to get rid of all adults, Nigel. Good and bad. That is what the Splinter Cell was and that's what it will always be."

Nigel sat beside her, giving her a scrutinizing frown. "Looks like someone did their homework."

"I never stopped looking for you," she admitted. "It made me question things, I needed answers. The Splinter Cell was real. I suspected it when Chad and Infinity disappeared and it was confirmed when you vanished and then Numbuh 74.239 lied to Numbuh 9 and then went all reclusive. Then there was your team."

Nigel reeled back. "You suspected my team was in the Splinter Cell!?"

"That, or they had somehow been manipulated," she explained. "So I started digging. There was a threat. A threat that took you, and would eventually come for everyone. I had to be ready. I had to know." She closed her eyes as her hands tightened into fists. "So I prepared in the months leading up to my thirteenth birthday. I got stricter. I had to make sure everyone else was ready while I searched for answers. I couldn't hold their hands anymore. And then, it all came to a head when I joined the special Teen Covert Cell and found out the truth."

Nigel steeled himself. "And what was the 'truth'?"

Rachel opened her eyes. "That in the end, none of it—any of this, even mattered."

Stepping into the underground office nestled within the colossal root system of towering treehouses, one would feel as if they were enveloped in a teenage haven. Neon lights cast a playful glow against organic roots, while posters of bands and pop culture icons adorned the walls. Bean bag chairs and cushions formed cozy clusters for lounging, surrounded by board games and decks of cards, offering breaks from work or study.

In the center, a communal desk hosted a chaotic array of notebooks and sketch pads, surrounded by potted plants and terrariums. Two teenagers stood on opposite sides of the desk; one older, with dreadlocks and fuzz of a goatee settling into his new leadership role. And the other, a younger girl aged beyond her years trying to adjust to a world where not everyone heeded her every order.

"Well, it's been a long, and uh, messy road," Maurice said, coughing into his hand. He was silent for a moment before he tried to smile despite the situation. "But…I'm still glad to be the first to welcome you to the Teen Covert Cell, Numbuh 362."

Rachel's expression was natural, hands at parade rest as she gave a curt nod. "Thank you, sir."

Maurice shuffled. "It's gonna be weird getting used to that now."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Adapt quickly. I'm not your Supreme Leader anymore."

Under his breath, Maurice grumbled, "Sure got that right."

But if he thought he could slip that remark past her, he was sorely mistaken. "Is there a problem, sir?"

Maurice flinched, hand caught in a proverbial cookie jar. He groaned. "We were expecting a…smoother transition. No one was ready for the little 'show' you put on."

Rachel nonchalantly shrugged. "Plans changed."

"But not that much," Maurice argued. "You nearly did Numbuh 206's job for him and completely trashed the Moonbase—"

"Superficial damage. Needed to be done to protect essential staff and reduce casualties to zero."

"It was reckless!"

Rachel briefly thought of Nigel. "I was inspired."

"You locked Abby in a broom closet! Why did you do that!?"

Rachel was quiet as her eyes shifted to the side. She gathered her thoughts, sorting through her emotions before neutrally saying, "Seemed like a good idea at the time."

Maurice pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, great idea. I still have her demanding me to decommission you even after I explained everything. Woulda saved me a lot of trouble if you just did that, by the way."

Rachel clicked her tongue. "The timetable was shrinking and I had to improvise, okay? I'll pull her aside and apologize once she joins us, just like I will with Numbuh 60 and Numbuh 86 when they enlist here shortly."

A stricken look crossed Maurice's face. "Those two…won't be joining our ranks."

The first real emotion to cross Rachel's face in this meeting was shock. "What?"

"Numbuh 86 took your little stunt hard, Rachel," he said. "She thinks you turned your back on her. I didn't know how to tell her it was an act, cause it seemed like that would be worse. Like you truly didn't trust or respect her enough to let her know what was going on. I…think she'd been through enough."

Rachel's mouth fell open. "And Patton?"

Maurice closed his eyes. "That asthma attack he had… his symptoms haven't decreased with age. Others worry it might be a hindrance and I was vetoed. He…also agreed. They're both set to be honorably decommissioned; for real."

Rachel's mind flashed to her two friends—could she only honestly call them that after everything she had put them through?

"But hey," Maurice cut in again, "you should talk to them, and set things right before it's too late. It's against the rules…but when have I cared, right? Plus, you're on track to be an Overseer. I'm sure your say could get Numbuh 60 cleared for—"

"No," Rachel said, her voice hollow. Her actions that day…it was time to face the consequences for them. At least this way, Fanny and Patton might truly be safe from the dangers of the Splinter Cell. "They made their decision. I'm going to respect it."

"Are you sure?"

"Enough," Rachel said, her voice strained. "I'm ready to get to work."

"Tch, still all work and no play, Rach?"

Maurice facepalmed at the new voice and Rachel went on the defensive as she spun around. Her shoulders were squared, her feet in the proper position, and her fists raised as she saw a teenager she was sure she'd never see again.

Numbuh Two-Seventy-Four, Chad Dickson in the flesh.

The older boy had grown, his final growth spurt finalizing. There was stubble of hair on his chiseled chin, and lines under his tired, jaded eyes. Those same eyes locked with her, and he worked up a smirk that at one point, may have come off as confident—show-offy at worst. But now, it just seemed condescending the more she thought about it.

"Been a while, hasn't it?" he chuckled. He effortlessly raised his hand, catching Rachel's fist before it made contact with his face. "Aw, you did care."

Rachel snarled, freeing her hand before flipping away. When he made no move to engage, she growled, "Traitor!"

Chad rolled his eyes, right hand fumbling in his pocket for a piece of gum. "Still falling for that old story, huh?"

"I don't care what the reports say, Chad. You disappeared along with the rest of the Splinter Cell after the TREATY. You're one of them."

Chad's eyes fled to the rooted ceiling as he plopped the gum in his mouth. The blurple-berry flavor was dulled against his tongue, and the pop of the bubble didn't quite hit the same anymore. "Boy, how I wish I wasn't."

Rachel was incensed, shifting to where she could focus her attention on both Chad and Maurice, the latter of which didn't seem too surprised at Chad's appearance. She was right to be skeptical of his story last they met. Her eyes darted, like a caged animal. "What is this?"

"Calm down," Maurice commanded. His look softened as he traded glances with Chad. The other boy was near impossible to read, but at a quick nod, Maurice returned his focus to the flighty girl. "I told you before; there are things I found out that I couldn't tell you about. But the time for secrets is over. It's time you learned the truth."

"The truth?" Rachel mockingly spat back. "You mean the 'truth' of how you and Chad are part of the Splinter Cell!?"

"There is no Splinter Cell, Numbuh 362."

She shouldn't be surprised. Not really. If Chad was here, then of course he wasn't too far behind. Rage crawled up her spine as she turned around, seeing the wall of roots parted to reveal a young boy wearing a pair of sunglasses.

Numbuh Infinity stood, a part of her reasoning that despite him looking the youngest, he was, in reality, probably the oldest of them all. He had the courtesy to look chastened as he regarded her behind those shades. "Of all the lies we fed to you, the so-called 'Splinter Cell'…that one clearly got out of hand."

A thousand questions were fighting to come out. Why were they here? Where had they been? How much did Maurice know? How long did he know? Why the heck did Infinity look like he was still ten years old despite it being ages since she'd last seen him?

But the only question that mattered escaped first. "Where is Nigel?"

Numbuh Infinity looked to the ground. "Out there fighting the good fight, just like you are, sir."

"Stop being coy, kid," was the terse response from Chad. Rachel analyzed the two; Chad seemed angry, though it wasn't directed at her. No, when he looked at her, she just saw pity in his eyes. When he looked at Infinity, that's when the rage appeared. Rachel hid her shock as Infinity flinched at the apparent insult Chad hurled his way. "I kept my end of the deal, now do yours and tell her!"

"I will," Infinity said as he tilted his head towards Maurice, "once he excuses himself. He already knows too much."

Maurice stood up, resting on his desk as he glared at Infinity defiantly. "No way, I'm not leaving her alone with you."

"I'm a big girl, Numbuh 9," Rachel said, eyes centered on Infinity. "I'll be fine."

"Sorry, but after the things I've seen, I'm not so sure."

"That's what I like about you, Numbuh 9," Infinity spoke up. Everyone shuddered as he brazenly picked his nose, fingering a sizable booger. He held it up to the low light, almost admiring it. Then, he deftly flicked it onto Maurice's jacket. "Always looking after your fellow kid."

"Ew!" Maurice squealed as he went to wipe the booger off. It didn't come off. Instead, it spread, coating him head-to-toe with a green, slimy goo. "WHAT THE ACTUAL FU—"

Rachel took a horrified step back as she saw Maurice dissipate into a million tiny green particles.

Chad raised a brow as he looked at Infinity. "Really?"

"Oh, I sent him home, he'll be fine," the young diplomat scoffed. He crossed his arms as he addressed Rachel. "After an extensive evaluation of his record and his complete and utter dedication to protecting kids everywhere, Numbuh 1 was recruited for a highly coveted position."

Rachel blinked before asking, "What do you mean?"

"He means Nigie got selected to be part of a super special space club," Chad said, a dismissive squeak to his voice as he held his hands together. He ignored Infinity's pointed look and went on to mockingly coo. "One that makes this 'Teens Next Door' crap look like the minor leagues."

Rachel looked at Infinity again. The boy clearly had a script prepared, but Chad was making him lose his focus. She frowned, deciding to push on that. "Space?"

Infinity dragged a hand down his face. "In for a penny, I suppose…yes, space. Numbuh 1 was selected to be the first official human representative for the Galactic Kids Next Door."

There was a lot to unpack with that sentence, and Rachel had no clue where to begin. Her mind reeled at the revelation. Nigel, Numbuh 1, one of her closest friends and trusted comrades, was now part of something beyond the realms of Earth and the KND as she knew it. The Galactic Kids Next Door - sounded like a concept straight out of a direct-to-DVD Doctor Time-Space movie. "What... what does that even mean?"

Infinity adjusted his sunglasses, a gesture that seemed oddly casual given the gravity of the situation. "It means exactly what it sounds like," he explained. "A coalition of kids from all corners of the galaxy, united in protecting children's rights across the cosmos. They deal with threats and missions on a scale far beyond anything the Earth-based Kids Next Door could imagine."

Chad, ever the sarcastic one, chimed in. "Yeah, because fighting intergalactic tyrants and alien invasions is just another day at the office for Numbuh 1 now."

Rachel's thoughts raced. Nigel, her friend who had always dreamed of being a hero, had finally achieved something beyond what any of them could have imagined.

But at what cost?

Had he willingly left Earth behind, or was he forced into this new role?

And why hadn't he told her? The bitterness she felt toward her former teammates swelled within her.

"You knew about this?" Rachel turned her accusing gaze toward Chad

Chad sighed heavily, seemingly resigned to the inevitable confrontation. "I did. But I wasn't at liberty to share that information until now. It's classified at the highest level, even within our organization." He smirked. "It's why I had to disappear until now."

Rachel's frustration boiled over. "Classified? Secrets? You all act like I'm still some naive little kid who can't handle the truth! I was supposed to be the Supreme Leader, and yet you kept me in the dark about this! About Nigel!"

Chad's smirk vanished, replaced by a look of genuine concern. "Look, Rachel, it wasn't about underestimating you or your abilities. It was about protecting you. The less you knew, the safer you were."

Rachel scoffed, her anger palpable. "Protecting me? By treating me like some fragile doll? I'm not a child anymore, Chad. I don't need to be coddled and sheltered from the truth!"

"I know!" he yelled right back. He snapped a finger and pointed at Infinity. "If it weren't for me, he never would've let you in on this. A little thanks goes a long way, you know!"

Rachel performed a fake curtsy, scrunching her face into a saccharine expression and increasing her voice a few noticeable pitches. "Oh, thank you ever so much, Numbuh Two-Seventy-Foooour! I'm super doubly excited to learn I was actually the Supreme Leader of NOTHING!"

Infinity stepped forward, his expression earnest. "Sir, we understand that you're upset, and you have every right to be. But please, try to see it from our perspective. There were major conflicts of interest. We were trying to do what we thought was best for you and for everyone on Earth."

Rachel responded by grabbing Infinity by his neck and slamming him against the wall. The boy gasped, his shades knocked askew, and she was surprised to see real, human eyes. Human eyes filled with a healthy dose of shame with a pinch of fear. She was surprised, but not enough to let him go. The rage and hurt were still too fresh.

Infinity squirmed.

Chad watched carefully.

Rachel was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, quite honestly. The heat raging around in her head made it nearly impossible to think rationally. "You commanded a shadow organization under my nose, executed orders behind my back, weakened my authority, robbed me of my dignity, and stole one of my top operatives out from under me and claim to be justified because it was CONFLICT OF INTEREST!?"

Infinity scratched against her wrists, struggling to breathe as he wheezed, "You…don't…understand…what's at stake…"

A wide grin broke out as a crazed gleam entered her eyes.

Something inside of her gave an audible snap.

Her grip tightened around his neck -

"STAND DOWN, NUMBUH 362!"

- Chad's voice was a wave of freezing water. Rachel scrambled back, Infinity falling to the floor, grasping his neck as Rachel's eyes glassed over. She dimly noted Chad's presence beside her, but she was far too mesmerized by her hands, the trembling palms coming in and out of focus as she struggled to remember how to breathe.

"…I'm sorry…"

She slowly found herself back in her own body, back in Maurice's office, and looking down at a gasping Numbuh Infinity who just spoke despite nearly losing his ability to speak at all.

"I'm sorry," he said again, voice gravely while he rubbed his neck. "It was… not my intention to undermine your authority. But Numbuh 1…he's our last real chance at change. I had to take the risk."

Rachel numbly stared down at the boy.

"In the end, it was my mission to sever his ties so he could take the next step," Infinity said, staring down at the floor where his glasses lay. "…but I didn't anticipate the other end of things. For that, I'm truly sorry, Rachel."

Rachel's shoulders sagged, her anger dissipating into a weary resignation. "No. You…you don't get to call me that."

Chad's lips curled. The scene before him was not the one he expected, Rachel had to guess. She was faintly aware of his hand moving, slowly inching to wrap around her.

"Nigel," Rachel whispered, ignoring Chad and glaring at Infinity. "Will he ever be back?"

Chad turned his head away and withdrew his hand.

Infinity re-donned his glasses and sighed heavily. "I'm afraid that's not possible."

Rachel turned away from the boy. "Then here's one last order, Numbuh Infinity; make sure I never see you again."

Numbuh Infinity stood there, his face going back to that unreadable mask that suited him so well. Finally, he offered a respectful salute to the taller girl. "Aye, sir."

And then he left, such is the way of the kid who made sure everyone hugged and played nice.

Rachel was alone. Well, not completely. For some strange reason, Chad, of all people, was the only one to stay behind. He watched in silence as Rachel processed the whirlwind of emotions that had engulfed her. He could see the turmoil raging within her, the hurt and anger mingling with confusion and resignation. For a moment, he hesitated, unsure of what to say or do.

But then, he remembered the bitter taste of regret that lingered in his own heart, the weight of the choices he had made, and the bridges he had burned. And he knew that Rachel would soon come to understand that same regret, that same sense of loss.

He took a step closer to her, his expression somber. "You know," he began, his voice quiet, "you're not the only one who's made mistakes, kid."

She said nothing at first, her gaze fixed on the floor as if searching for answers in the patterns of the roots beneath her feet. But then, slowly, she looked up at him, her eyes filled with a toxic blend of anger, hurt, and exhaustion.

"What do you want, Chad?" she asked, her voice cold and distant.

Chad met her gaze evenly, his own eyes betraying a hint of sadness. "I want you to understand," he replied softly. "that sometimes, the choices we make have consequences. Sometimes, we hurt the people we care about without even realizing it."

Rachel's expression softened slightly, a flicker of vulnerability shining through the mask of defiance she wore. "And what? You think that's supposed to make me feel better?"

Chad shook his head, a rueful smile playing at the corners of his lips. "No, I don't," he admitted. "But I also know that holding onto all that won't change anything. Trust me, I've tried."

Rachel's brow furrowed in confusion, but before she could respond, Chad continued.

"You're angry, Rachel. I get that," he said, his tone gentle yet firm. "But don't let that anger consume you. Don't let it turn you into someone you're not."

Rachel's gaze wavered, her resolve faltering for just a moment. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, she simply stood there, grappling with the conflicting emotions swirling within her.

Chad took another step closer, his hand reaching out tentatively. "You have a choice, Rachel," he said quietly. "You can keep fighting, keep obsessing, and end up pushing everyone away until you're left with nothing. Or you can learn from your mistakes, find a way to forgive yourself and others, and move forward."

For a moment, Rachel was silent, her mind racing as she considered Chad's words.

And then, without a word, she turned away from him. She took a few shaky steps toward the exit, her footsteps echoing in the empty room. Chad watched her go, a pang of sadness tugging at his heart. He had hoped that he could reach her, that he could help her see that there was still hope, still a chance. But now, as he stood alone in the dimly lit office, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had failed her. As he pulled another stick of gum from his pocket and popped it into his mouth, the familiar taste of blurple-berry filling his senses, Chad couldn't help but wonder if Rachel would ever find the peace she so desperately sought.

And deep down, he feared that the answer might be no.

Nigel and Rachel found themselves once again in the present moment, sitting side by side on a weathered bench in the deserted playground. The air hung heavy with unspoken tension, the weight of history and regret pressing down on them.

Nigel's gaze lingered on Rachel, his expression a mixture of concern and determination. "That must have been incredibly difficult for you," he remarked softly, breaking the silence that had settled between them.

Rachel nodded, her eyes distant as she replayed the memory in her mind. "It was. But it was also the moment I realized just how much had changed, how much I had lost."

Silence stretched between them, filled only by the distant sound of a gentle breeze rustling through the trees. Nigel reached out, his hand coming to rest on Rachel's shoulder in a gesture of comfort.

"They took everything, Nigel," she said. "Everything."

For a while, she was able to play pretend again.

It was just like Moonbase Covert Operations. Sneaking inside teen lairs, hijacking cell phone towers, and planting the occasional false lead in the pocket of Mr. Fizz. Just like old times.

But at the heart of it, it was just that: pretend. It didn't hold the same zeal. Didn't carry the same whimsy or wonder. There was no fuzzy Bon-Bon to cuddle up to when stakeouts got lonely. There was no fawning Fanny back at base to hang on every word of her tales of ninja daring-do. There was no cheeky Patton to offer her a few tips and pointers to get out of a double-helix bow-tied knot. There was no heart-wrenchingly charming leader of sector V to share ginger-snap cookies and meatball sandwiches with.

Rachel was only that: Rachel. And she was alone.

Home didn't feel like home. Her parents seemed blind to her inner turmoil, content that she was somehow keeping up with grades, staying to volunteer at after-school, and being overall the perfect little girl they raised her to be.

Harvey was hardly around. He was always out on another mission, on another adventure to shoot gumballs and bully stingy ice cream men.

But occasionally, the rare times she crossed his path, there was a rare look in his eyes. A sparkle of hope. Despite everything, despite not being able to confront her yet, he hadn't given up on her. Word in the teen spy grapevine is that he was still searching; still looking for evidence that proved she wasn't a traitor, that she didn't wreck the Moonbase in a fit of rage and abandoned ship. Harvey still fought to keep the legacy of Numbuh Three-Sixty-Two alive and beat down anyone who dared say otherwise.

It certified him as a pariah. The Most Hated Operative and Brother to the Biggest Traitor Since Chad Dickson. But she watched as he never let it deter him. Sector W's mission success rate only grew, the only ugly blemish being that last disastrous cake mission – and it had indeed been the last as no one had seen hide or tail from the Delightful Children since that day.

So, Rachel kept pretending. Pretending she cared about the Kids Next Door when honestly, she was only still doing it for Harvey. Chad had once claimed he had always been on the sidelines for sector V, so she aimed to do the same for sector W. She always made sure the Iguana's suit didn't stick to Sonia too tightly. She double-checked to make sure the Big Idea's light-bulb helmet was dulled around Lee. She ensured Mr. Boss never subjected Paddy to a traumatic haircut. She made sure Harvey had a much easier tenure as a leader than she ever did.

Things were far from perfect, but for a while, she could play pretend that her life found some semblance of normal.

Then on Fanny's thirteenth birthday, Father came out of hiding and set fire to the Medical Boo-Boo Grove.

Rachel remembered sitting in the back corner of the Basement longue, buried in a beanbag chair, headphones deep in her ears. But no music played. Her eyes stayed glued on the emergency screen, eavesdropping for any intel coming from the Grove.

At that moment, she didn't need to pretend. Her heart wept for those kids. Those poor, defenseless kids who thought they had found a haven from the cruel world, only to be reminded that nowhere was safe, not even with the Kids Next Door. Like all the teens around her, Rachel felt helpless. Felt powerless. Teen Operatives were forbidden from going to Grove to minimize the security risk, but many were suiting up, damning the rules because those kids needed help.

Thankfully, reports came that the situation had been contained, thanks to the efforts of Supreme Leader Numbuh Five. A small, silver of vindication shot through Rachel.

The vindication turned to trepidation as reports came in.

"Are the kids okay!?"

"They are, thank god. Heard the Toiletnator saved two dozen by himself. Who woulda thought?"

"But what about the actual operatives?"

"I heard Numbuh 2, the Gilligan kid? He…got the worst of it."

"Oh no."

"Wasn't Fanny there?"

"Yeah, stopped her decommissioning so she could help."

"Shame she's not becoming a spy."

"I heard sector W was there. Did they make it out—"

Rachel ignored Maurice's surprised protests as she hijacked and bee-lined his shuttle to the Moonbase.

It had been almost a year since she set foot in the lunar halls, and she felt no relief being back. Every new twist and turn was some new horror story. Displaced Grove patients and runaway orphans littered the hangers in emergency sleeping bags. The First Aid responders were arguing about whether to risk operating with their limitations to help the more severely injured where they could at least protect them, or risk it by sending them to an adult hospital where they couldn't promise them true safety from those abusers they once tried to flee.

A tremor went down her spine, passing one quarantined Boo-Boo-Bay as the familiar screams of Hoagie Gilligan bounced off the steel walls of the base. As she passed the door, she saw Numbuh Four pounding bloody fists into the floor in frustration while a serious-looking Numbuh Three did her best to sedate the fading pilot.

Rachel pressed on, passing nightmare after nightmare but seeing no sign of her brother. She quickly ducked into an air vent, nearly coming out of hiding as Sonia, Lee, and Paddy passed under, all huddled together, faces evident with tears.

Where was Harvey!?

Panic fueled her every step and somehow led her to the decommissioning wing.

She stuck to the shadows, watching with a pained expression as caught sight of a crestfallen Abigail Lincoln, seated alone in the massive auditorium, head bent over so low that her hat swallowed her entire expression up. Her knee jerked on its own, and in one hand, she desperately clutched a pair of sunglasses.

Nigel's sunglasses.

Rachel, to this day, is not sure what caused her to emerge from the shadows and softly utter, "Numbuh 5."

Abby snapped up to look at her. Rachel didn't flinch at the state of the younger girl's face. Snot dripping from her nose, her face stained with hot, wet tears, and her eyes red and glaring a hole through Rachel's head.

The two former supreme commanders held each other's stare; unspoken grievances and perhaps even condolences being communicated silently between them. At the state of the younger leader, so broken and unsure what to do, some long-buried urge blossomed in Rachel as she took a careful step forward.

And that's when she saw him.

Seated in the front row, given away by his sneeze, was Harvey.

Rachel vaulted over rows of chairs, missing the panicked look in Abby's eyes.

"Harvey!" Rachel shouted. She ran up to the boy. Her hands went over his hair, his cheeks, and his singed sweater as she inspected him for any major injury. "Are you hurt? Are you okay? I-I know this doesn't make sense, but I promise to—"

"D-Don't touch me!"

Her heart ran cold at the terrified shriek that tore from his lips. Rachel looked at Harvey – really looked at him and finally noticed how … small he looked.

"W-Who are you?" he meekly asked, tucking in on himself and shivering. "J-Just l-leave me alone."

Rachel's mouth fell open, barely noticing Abby was huffing as she made it down to the first row. She ignored the girl's spluttering as she looked down at her brother as terror gripped her throat. "H-Harvey? I-It's me. Rachel?"

Harvey timidly gazed up, squinting his eyes. Recognition didn't come right away, and red flags began waving. His eyes widened, and he started sniffling again. "S-Sis? W-Where are we? I-I want Mom."

One final thread in Rachel gave way as something finally broke.

"You decommissioned him…"

Abby winced as she reached out. "Rachel, it's not what it—"

One moment Abby was behind Rachel, the next she was careening across the atrium and crashing into the leftover cake from Fanny's forgotten farewell party. She pried her face up, wiping away cream cheese icing just in time to see a rabid Rachel descending upon her.

"YOU DECOMMISSIONED HIM!" Rachel screamed, her leg coming down like an axe. Abby rolled out of the way, stumbling to the floor as Rachel's kick cracked the mahogany table in two. "HOW DARE YOU!"

Rachel barely recalled the next minute. It was a storm of blind rage, broken chairs, a wrecked decommissioning pod, and a whole heap of destruction as one thought kept her going:

Numbuh Five had decommissioned Numbuh Three-Sixty-Three.

Harvey, as Rachel knew him, was gone.

Gone.

Gone.

Gone.

"Control yourself!" Abby tried to holler through the fury fog, somewhere along the chaos finding her ROADSIGN staff and using it to fend off Rachel. But she was tired. She was exhausted from the Grove, and Rachel was fueled by pure, unadulterated hate. "I didn't have a choice!"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

Rachel screamed until her throat went sore. She tore off a pipe from the wall, smoke billowing in. The heat flayed her skin. The steam burned her eyes.

She didn't care as she kept beating the instrument against Abby's staff, willing it to yield and, eventually, allow her to break Abby. "You took him!"

Sector Q.

"You took him!"

Bon-Bon.

"You took him!"

Fanny and Patton.

"You all took him!"

Harvey.

"YOU ALL TOOK EVERYTHING!"

"SIS!"

Rachel dropped the pipe, it clattering away. She looked down, forcing herself to stop as angry tears rolled down her face.

Poor Harvey was crying too. "P-Please, stop. I-I'm scared! I-I w-want to g-go ho-home!"

Rachel's rage ebbed away, replaced by a numbing realization of what she had done, she knelt beside Harvey, her hands trembling as she reached out to touch his shoulder. But he flinched away, his eyes wide with fear.

"Sis..." he whimpered between sobbing hiccups. "I-I don't understand. W-why are you so angry? W-what's happening?"

Rachel's heart splintered at the sight of her little brother's confusion and fear. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her shaking voice. "I'm sorry, Harvey," she whispered, tears now streaming down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I... I just…"

"Go."

Rachel snapped her gaze to Abby, the worn-out girl using her staff as an anchor as she stood. Tired eyes peeked out from beneath the rim of her cap. "Just take him…and go home, Rachel."

Rachel looked at Abby. Really looked at Abby. This was Numbuh Five. This was the Supreme Leader. In that moment, this girl was more than any of those things; this girl was the embodiment was what had stripped everything from Rachel until it left her haggard and bare:

This was the Kids Next Door.

The sun descended beneath the horizon, leaving streaks of fiery orange across the darkening sky, Nigel and Rachel found themselves alone in the desolate playground. The fading light of the autumn afternoon gave way to the harsh glow of streetlights, casting long shadows that stretched across the empty swings and abandoned merry-go-round.

Seated side by side on the worn bench, Nigel and Rachel sat in heavy silence, their hearts weighed down by the burden of their conflicting loyalties. The memories of the past lingered in the air, but now they were tainted with the stench of the present reality. Gone was the laughter and carefree joy of their childhood; now, there was only the palpable tension that hung between them like a thick fog. Two former friends, perhaps in another life something more, tested by the opposing forces that threatened to tear them apart.

Nigel cast a sidelong glance at Rachel. She sat beside him, her eyes fixed on the ground, her hands clenched tightly in her lap, a silent barrier separating them.

"I don't have anything left," Rachel said softly, spirit drained and fractured. "And how many operatives have stories like mine? How many can't do anything about it?"

The chill of the night air seeped into their bones, mirroring the cold distance that had grown between them. Nigel wrapped his arms around himself, unable to shake the feeling of loneliness that engulfed him in Rachel's presence. In the quiet of the playground, the only sound was the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze, a melancholy symphony that underscored the ache in Nigel's heart. For even as they sat together, Rachel felt unattainable, like a dream slipping through his fingers with each passing moment.

"I…know you're trying. You listening…it's more than I ever thought I'd get," she whispered. "But I won't pretend you'll understand. It's unfair to expect you of all people to."

"But I do."

Rachel gasped as Nigel stared ahead, his eyes focused on the Gilligan's house across the street. "I lost everything too, Rachel. The difference is I gave it all up. But I didn't realize it at the time. I was just a kid who saw a chance at another adventure."

The boy peered up to the sky, trying to make out that set of constellations Kuki designated all by herself. "You don't know what you have until it's gone, right? Not a day went by when I didn't miss my friends. I wondered what sort of inventions Hoagie cooked up, how many more Rainbow Monkeys Kuki collected, what kind of trouble Wally was getting into, or how on earth Abby was handling it all. In the beginning, in my worst moments, I said to heck with it and thought of insane plans to go AWOL and ship myself back home. Just to have one more day with them."

A leaf fluttered by and he caught it, admiring its shade and hue of red. "But that was selfish, right? How could I abandon my post, my duty? I was out there keeping kids of the galaxy safe. Did you know that on some planets, kids have thirty-seven parents instead of two? It's nutty."

Rachel groaned, not knowing how she could handle thirty-six clones of her already neurotic mother. "I'll admit, that sounds terrifying."

"Yeah, and some planets don't even have a KND outpost to protect them. We're all they got. Things like that kept me from leaving," he reasoned. "But the thought was still there. The longing never went away. Heck, I was counting the days until I turned thirteen. Can you imagine that? I thought my service would be up and I could finally go home."

Rachel watched as Nigel let go of the leaf, the wind carrying it over to her. She plucked it from the air and twirled it between her fingers. "From what I was told, you could never come home."

"Galactic Command's required tour of service is of the lifelong variety, I'm afraid." He frowned. "When I was younger, I figured lifelong meant until, at the most, 18. I mean, that is where it truly goes downhill, right?"

Rachel stifled a laugh behind her fist, but a smirk tugged the corners of Nigel's lips as he noticed anyway. He did not comment on it and continued.

"The Important Ones…they have some odd priorities, I'll give them that," he sighed. "They try to drill into your head that aging is a disease. Maybe it is, but everyone is so different! I met a mosquito alien that joined us for like, sixteen minutes before he kicked the bucket due to his species' short lifespan. And a friend of mine, Numbuh 9L, is apparently on her fifth life. How does that even work?"

"You'd know more about alien biology than me, Nigel."

Nigel threw his hands in the air. "They're always hung up over it, by Zero. 'Numbuh Orion is infected!' 'Oh, Numbuh Quantum Leap hits puberty in three hundred years, they're fine!' They argue over age so much, that it's a bloody miracle any real work gets done! Who cares if that Goplexian toddler is a senior citizen by Veldin jurisdiction; if there's a slim chance it's a kid in trouble, I'm going in, to heck with your orders, darn it! They've lost the plot so much, Rachel. Are we even really helping anyone anymore?"

As the boy went on a tangent, a warm feeling blossomed in Rachel's chest. Nigel was, after all this time, still Nigel. Still a bald boy who wanted to play the hero. But the fact he was voicing his own dissatisfaction with KND politics right after her entire sob story…

Rachel, for the first time in a while, saw a light at the end of the dark tunnel. It emboldened her to scoot a bit closer to him. "Hmm, sounds like playing space-ranger isn't all it's cracked up to be."

Nigel paused, noticing the distance between them had lessened. Hopeful, he scooted a bit closer as well as he admitted, "I guess not."

She fiddled with the leaf some more before finally tucking it in her golden hair like a charm. She smiled as she looked up into the sky. "Bet dodging black holes and diving into supernovas loses its charm after the first few times, eh?"

"You know, funny enough, you got it backward. Supernovas are the worst, but black-hole diving? Numbuh RN8 introduced me to the hobby, and I'm hooked," he regaled, noticing their shoulders were almost touching. "I…would've loved to take you."

Rachel turned, smiling at him. "I'm sure I would've loved trying it…with you."

Nigel's heart skipped a beat at Rachel's words, the weight of their shared experiences mingling together. For a moment, the tension that had gripped them loosened its hold, replaced by a sense of warmth that enveloped them like a comforting embrace.

In the soft glow of the streetlights, Nigel turned to face Rachel fully, his gaze meeting hers with a newfound sense of clarity. "Rachel, I know things haven't been easy for either of us, but maybe... maybe we can find a way through it together? I…I don't want you to have to suffer anymore. "

Rachel's breath caught in her throat, her eyes shimmering with unspoken emotions. "Nigel, I... I don't know what the future holds."

"Then let's not think about the future for a moment," he pleaded. "What do you want? Right now?"

Rachel was quiet as she considered his words. She leaned in close, their faces inches apart. "You really want to know?"

Nigel nodded. "More than anything."

They could feel each other's breath, their lips tingling.

"To play a real game of tag." Rachel booped Nigel on his cute little nose. "And you're it!"

Before Nigel could respond, Rachel somersaulted from the bench and darted away, her laughter trailing behind her like a melody. Nigel's heart raced with anticipation as he sprang up, a grin spreading across his face.

"Hey, no fair!" he called out, giving chase.

Like the little schoolmate in the schoolyard,

The playground transformed into their own private haven, the cares of the world melting away as they raced around like carefree children of yore. They dodged around the swings, ducked under the monkey bars, and weaved through the jungle gym, their laughter echoing through the empty playground.

As Nigel reached out to tag Rachel, she veered off suddenly, heading for the slide with a mischievous glint in her eye. Nigel followed close behind, the thrill of the chase exhilarating.

We'll play jacks and UNO cards.

With a playful laugh, Rachel slid down the slide, the wind rushing past her as she descended. Nigel followed suit, his heart pounding with excitement. But as he reached the bottom, he found himself alone, Rachel nowhere in sight.

I'll be your best friend and you'll be my Valentine.

For a moment, Nigel's heart sank, the thrill of the chase replaced by a pang of disappointment. But then, just as he started to look around, he felt a sudden weight on top of him, and before he knew it, Rachel landed on him with a playful giggle, pinning him down with a triumphant grin.

Yes, you can hold my hand if you want to,

"Gotta do better than that, soldier," she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Nigel couldn't help but laugh, the joy bubbling up inside him like a wellspring of happiness. As he looked up at Rachel, their eyes met, and in that moment, everything else faded away. They were just two teenagers, caught up in the simple pleasure of each other's company, the worries of the world forgotten.

'Cause I wanna hold yours too

"Technically," he said with a smirk, his fingers rubbing against her wrists, "This makes you it, sir."

Rachel scoffed, her eyes lit with happiness as she adjusted herself and smirked down at Nigel. "Story of my life, I suppose."

We'll be playmates and lovers

Rachel hovered over him, her presence both electrifying and comforting. He couldn't tear his gaze away from her, captivated by the twinkle in her eyes and the playful curve of her lips.

Their breaths mingled in the cool night air, the world around them fading into insignificance as they remained locked in their little bubble of joy. Nigel reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair away from Rachel's face, his touch gentle and tender.

"I've definitely heard worse stories," Nigel replied.

Rachel's laughter rang out like music, filling the night with its infectious melody. With a playful gleam in her eye, she leaned in closer, her lips hovering just inches from Nigel's.

"I think I'm quite lucky to be 'it' when it means I get to be with you," Rachel said, her voice soft yet filled with sincerity.

Time seemed to stand still as they shared that moment. There were no supervillains. No broccoli, no Ridiculous Barrier separating them by lightyears. No traitors. No divided loyalties. No burdens or rank to hold them back.

In that instant, Nigel knew that he never wanted it to end, that he wanted to hold onto this feeling for as long as he possibly could. He couldn't help but smile. "I think I could play this game of tag with you forever."

Rachel's eyes sparkled with amusement as she leaned in, her lips brushing against Nigel's ear as she whispered, "Then you better be prepared to chase me for a lifetime."

And share our secret worlds.

"And…" she pulled away, apprehension heavy in her eyes as she went to risk it all. "…we could do that, y'know."

Nigel frowned. "What are you saying?"

But it's time for me to go home

Rachel felt a heat in her chest, and it had nothing to do with Nigel. No, it came from a hidden pocket in her jacket; the one holding Father's scarlet invitation.

And despite giving the adult her word. Despite selling her soul away, and making a deal with the paternal devil; looking down on Nigel in that moment, she realized that she could never follow through with it.

"I think I'm about to make a mistake," she whispered. "But you can stop me."

"How?"

It's getting late, and dark outside

"We could leave it all behind," she blurted. "No more secrets. No more pretending. The game goes on forever, just you and me. They took everything from us, but we can steal back this."

Nigel's eyes widened in surprise at Rachel's confession, the weight of her words sinking in. For a moment, he was speechless, his mind racing as he tried to process what she was suggesting.

"We could go black-hole diving. Never miss a meatball sandwich day. Finally, just be the kids we couldn't be before." Her eyes flicked up to the Gilligan's house. "We'll…we'll find a way to help Hoagie. You'd never have to say goodbye to your team again. Always there to make sure they're safe and sound."

Nigel's eyes darted to the side, his fingers tightened against Rachel's wrists.

"No more raging against pointless galactic regulations. No more dealing with your bosses getting in the way of how you operate. How you're meant to operate. Crazy, reckless, and free." Rachel smiled a pleading, desperate smile. "You and me against the world, soldier."

Nigel stared into those beautiful hazel eyes. "Then…then give me the evidence, Rachel."

The fantasy began to crumble around her. "W-What?"

I need to be with myself and center,

He gave her a sad look. "You trusted me to hear you out. Please, keep trusting me when I say you need to let it go."

"As long as it exists, it's leverage. For them to give us what we want, or at best, for them to leave us alone."

"As long as it exists, the kids of Earth will always be in danger," he said, putting forth his condition, a pleading expression breaking out on his face as well. "I…I can't lose sight of why I'm doing this. It's not for me. Not for the Important Ones. It's make sure kids out there—kids like us stay safe."

Rachel growled. No. No, no, no, no! "How safe are they? They did this to us in the first place, Nigel! How many more does there need to be for you to see the Kids Next Door isn't worth it!?"

Clarity, peace, serenity

His heart ached as he watched the conflict play out in Rachel's eyes. "Rachel, I know it's hard," Nigel said softly, reaching out to gently cup her cheek. "The Kids Next Door may have its flaws, but at its core, it's about protecting children everywhere. We can't abandon that mission, no matter how tempting it may seem."

Rachel's gaze wavered, torn between her desire for freedom and her old, long-buried sense of duty. "But what about us? About me? What about my chance at happiness?"

Nigel's heart clenched at her words, the weight of their shared longing hanging heavy in the air. "I want that more than anything, Rachel. But—"

"No. No more buts." Both her hands grabbed his face, forcing him to look her in the eyes. "Back on the SCAMPER…you never gave me a real answer. Do you even remember what I asked you?"

Nigel stared straight into her eyes and firmly nodded. "You…or the Kids Next Door."

"What's your answer, Nigel?"

His hand fell from her cheek. She was right there, right. There. He left her. He left all of them. But he was here now. Now, he could make a difference.

But Rachel was still hanging on. Hanging onto something that would destroy her.

And every kid on Earth with her.

Tears pricked his eyes as he forced them shut. "I-I…"

Back on the SCAMPER, he showed that same hesitance – that same damn reluctance to choose what was right in front of him. Back then, she had been furious. She threw him out, raged, and went straight to Father without thinking.

But now, when faced with that same reluctance again, something caught in her throat. Now, she saw it from a different angle. She and Nigel suffered from the same tragedy; they both put others before themselves, to an almost self-destructive degree. But with Nigel, it was never half-baked, never figurative. It was literal. While she was dead set on this path she chose to walk alone, she realized the gravity of what she was asking him to do.

Rachel realized she quite literally asked him to choose between her or a eleventy-buhmillion innocent kids and operatives.

And while she had no doubt Nigel cared about her, he also cared about every single one of those innocent kids and operatives.

It was why that silly, girly crush never truly faded. Because it was never truly a crush at all.

This was her fault. All her fault for falling in love with a Kids Next Door operative who was never supposed to grow up.

I hope you know, I hope you know

That this has nothing to do with you

Rachel slowly sat up, her bangs hiding her eyes. Nigel propped him up on his elbows, confused as she slumped and turned away from him.

"There's an abandoned pizzeria downtown," she started, the melancholy in her voice broke Nigel's heart. "You once said…you'd follow my lead anywhere."

Tears began to flow freely from Nigel's eyes. "Rachel…"

It's personal,

Myself and I...

We got some straightening out to do.

"I'll hang around there until morning," was her reply. "If you come, it means the game never ends and maybe this fairy tale can have a happy ending. But…if you don't come…then I'll finally have my answer."

Nigel reached up, his fingers gracing hers. "Please…don't go…"

For a moment, Rachel was silent, her mind racing as her resolve flickered.

Then the wind blew, knocking the stray leaf free.

And I'm gonna miss you like a child misses their blanket,

But I've got to get a move on with my life

And then, without a word, she turned and broke away from the boy. She took a few shaky steps into the night, her footsteps echoing across the empty playground.

Nigel collapsed onto the ground, blurry eyes watching the stars. He used the length of his arm to cover his tears, the boy weeping as his heart tore in two.

It's time to be a big girl now

Rachel had spent so long fighting to prove herself as a capable daughter, a good big sister, a dutiful operative, and a worthy Supreme Leader, only to be met with deception and heartbreak from the people she trusted most. The bitterness she felt made her want to vomit.

Bon-Bon was gone.

Numbuh One-Hundred was gone.

Numbuh Two-Seventy-Four was gone

Fanny and Patton were gone.

Harvey was gone.

Numbuh One was gone.

Nigel Uno was gone.

Nigel was gone.

And despite spending so long believing Nigel was taken, she had to face the reality that he left willingly and didn't bother to say goodbye. After everything they had been through together after all the battles fought side by side, he had abandoned them. Abandoned her.

Except now, she finally knew the truth. He didn't abandon her, not intentionally. Like a child, he just didn't know any better.

That was somehow worse.

Her mind replayed the countless hours she had spent strategizing, leading missions, and making tough decisions for the sake of the Kids Next Door. She had sacrificed so much, and poured her heart and soul into it all, only to be repaid with lies and tragedy at every turn. It was a cruel irony that gnawed at her very being.

But beneath the anger and resentment lay a deeper, more profound sense of loss. For years, Rachel had dedicated herself to the cause, believing wholeheartedly in the mission of the Kids Next Door. It had been her purpose, her identity. And now, faced with the harsh reality that came to a head with Nigel's departure and the secrets that had been kept from her, she couldn't help but feel a crushing sense of loneliness.

In the quiet recesses of her mind, Rachel grappled with the realization that perhaps she had been fooling herself all along; that despite her best efforts, despite all she had sacrificed, she was ultimately destined to be alone. The memories she had forged with her teammates, once her source of strength and purpose, now felt like fragile threads stretched to their breaking point.

Rachel couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that settled in the pit of her stomach. She had given everything only to find herself standing on the precipice of despair, adrift in a sea of uncertainty.

In that moment of quiet contemplation, Rachel sat huddled on a random rooftop, feeling the weight of her loneliness pressing down on her, suffocating her hopes and dreams. She reached into her pocket, pulling out Father's velvet red invitation.

I'd follow your lead anywhere.

Rachel curled in on herself, sobs racking her body as the night engulfed her.

And big girls don't cry.

Credits:

"Big Girls Don't Cry" - Fergie