Author's note: This story was a request by JBlaser, with some of my own elements added, and this takes place sometime between "Operation: T.R.I.C.Y.C.L.E." and "Operation: G.I.R.L.F.R.I.E.N.D." I do not own Codename: Kids Next Door (which is owned by Mr. Warburton and Cartoon Network), and all rights go to their respective owners, so no copyright infringement intended. With that being said, let's get started with this fanfiction!

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Kids Next Door Mission
Operation: E.L.E.G.A.N.T.

Elegant
Ladies
Exude
Girliness
After
Numbuh's
Transfer

Sector V's treehouse, Lebanon, Virginia, United States

The sun rose over the Sector V treehouse, ready to embrace the sleeping operatives for a new day.

It invited the usual trappings of a happy morning inside the windows—vivid whitish yellow light; a robin's egg blue sky with a few white fluffy clouds dotting the horizon; a cool silky breeze tickling the operatives in their sleep and sprinkling a little additional sweetness onto their dreams; the smells of dew, flowers, and soil wafting upward from the ground far below, the sound of birds' chirping flying into the windows; the sweet taste of the fresh air and the tree's leaves penetrating all the structures of the place; the faint yet excited chatter from passersby; the melodious hum of distant car motors; the ecstatic swiveling of bike wheels; whatever was happing in the house below; and the general positivity of exciting mornings in Lebanon and Cleveland—and encouraged them to start a party with the occupants. That party crept throughout the wooden structure's hallways, flew up and down the elevator and staircases, squeezed itself into every corner of the rooms, intercepted the signals in every alarm system, and settled above the operatives' beds (or, in the case of Wallabee "Wally" Beetles, Numbuh 4, his wrestling ring), extending their long smooth fingers toward the slumbering faces of the ten-year-old guests of honor to remind them about their upcoming appointments.

Nigel Uno, Numbuh 1, was the first to be affected by this spell, his alertness on the highest settings in his head. He yawned loudly and stretched his arms and legs, looking around the room at all the files and screens and other KND junk that littered the floor for something of interest. He rubbed his eyes, remembering there was something scheduled for today that had to do with transfers around the world, but he couldn't quite remember what it was. He grabbed his sunglasses off of his nightstand, glancing at the file cabinets and boxes to find which one contained whatever it was the Moonbase had sent him and his team to read about this. Hoping he hadn't misplaced this important information in the wrong container, he pulled himself out of bed and started pacing around the floor, intending to leave no stone unturned in the process of searching.

The first place he looked was on his desk, which was cluttered with papers and folders thrown haphazardly around the top underneath the lamp. He dug through the papers; organizing them into neat stacks and sorting them into the folders by date, time, mission type, enemy target, sectors aided, targeted location, atrocity committed against kids, and so on and so forth; but the one piece he was looking for was nowhere to be found. He went to the stack of boxes to that desk's left, thoroughly sifting through everything in there from instruction manuals on gadgets to books about the KND's history, but there was no important information file from the Moonbase for today lying in there. He also walked to the TVs on the wall to the right of his bed, straining his head behind each one and climbing the bookshelves (whose contents he also carefully perused for the elusive file) to get a better view, but still no important file. "It's got to be around here somewhere!" he yelled exasperatedly, throwing his sunglasses to the floor.

However, he saw a glint of light reflecting off of them, showing a few small numbers shining in gold. Hmmmm, he thought, jumping down from the bookshelf he was clinging on to. These glasses might be trying to tell me something. He walked over toward where they had landed, inspecting them for any damage, and gazed inside their alluring glow, hoping it might provide an answer to his question. "Let's see here..." he said, inspecting the numbers. "Thirty-three...forty-eight...fifty-nine...eleven...zero, five...sixty one..."

His eyes grew wider at each number he read, imagining the possibilities behind them and wondering if they might hold the key to the file he sought, and sending a slightly tingling sensation throughout his body that grew stronger the longer he read the contents of the sunglasses' glint. "Fifty-four...zero, two...ninety-five...double zero...fifty-six...AHA!" His eyes bulged like hard-boiled eggs for a split second on the last word as he put his sunglasses on. "That's where that elusive file is hiding!" He ran over there to continue his search, grabbing the ladder near the cab of the semi truck whose trailer housed some of the shelves.

Craning his neck upward, Nigel gazed at the gold number 56 emblazoned on the drawer of one of the files, the alluring glow drawing him in to a stronger degree than King Midas' fatal attraction to the precious metal. He leaned the ladder toward the cabinet, his nose picking up the familiar scent of the paper contents hidden within the compartment, and also sniffing out a strange one with a hint of danger gently mixed in with the others. He began climbing toward it, the sensation in his feet nervously rumbling as if an earthquake were occurring below the treehouse and wobbling the ladder like a truck barreling down a road of unprocessed gravel. When he reached the drawer, he began to open it slowly, his hand holding the ladder to ensure his balance as the wobbling continued. His fingers danced delicately across the folders, carefully stepping on top of each and every one to learn of its contents, pulling some of the papers up for their owner to scour them for the particular treasure he sought on his map, until he reached one paper in particular. He stared at the writing through his sunglasses, scanning the sentences for something important, examining every tiny wrinkle and shallow crevice in the paper to find any announcements crucial for the team's schedule, and observing every detail in the photos for things of interest, and then...

Bingo! He found today's date in the middle of the paper, followed by a series of underlined words—IMPORTANT: INSPECT NEW SECTOR OPERATIVES—and an explanation of the mission at hand in smaller letters. "Attention, Sector V," he read out loud to himself. "You have been chosen for a very special mission: inspecting new operatives around the world to verify they're up to code. You each will be assigned a certain sector."

That was right—it was inspection day. Each year; the best, most experienced, and most respected sectors in the KND were to travel around the world to see the new operatives for inspection. They would enter the treehouses at the scheduled time (in the local time zone) and look around the treehouse to make sure everything was up to code, and they would guide the operatives they were inspecting on how to make their treehouses conform to the KND's standards if anything was wrong. They would also praise the operatives for things they did right, and use it as an example to guide future operatives who joined the sectors they were inspecting. This year, it would be Sector V's turn to do some inspection among other sectors (just like it was last year when Numbuh 1 had inspected Sector DRØ in Drøbak and given them a nearly perfect score for their dedication to their treehouse's upkeep), in no small part because of their efforts in putting a stop to Grandfather's Senior Citi-zombification of the world with the help of a certain Monty Uno/Numbuh 0. Thinking back on that day, Nigel went to the door of his room to tell the others about this.

He opened the door and entered the hallway, his brain on high alert as he stepped across the floor. He briskly walked down the passages, an air of authority flying around him as he approached the end of the passage in front of him. While he was walking, he saw Abigail "Abby" Lincoln, Numbuh 5, already up and dressed. She was carrying a blurpleberry lollipop in her left hand and a stack of files in her right, walking with a spring in her step in anticipation for the fun adventures she would have that day, and singing a jazzy tune to herself. "Good morning, Numbuh 5," he greeted her, his eyes reflecting the excitement in hers, which pulsed through his veins like the breeze from a fan.

"Good morning to you, Numbuh 1!" she responded, twirling the lollipop around her fingers. "How'd you sleep last night, huh?"

"Good," the bald British boy responded, rubbing any residual sleep he could find from his eyes. "I was dreaming about that time when we had to stop that monstrous trike from gobbling up all the kids' bikes around the world. Numbuh 362 was shouting at me to come up with some new strategies off the top of my head, while Lizzie was yelling at me through the phone to hurry up for our date, and some monster was trying to take me somewhere in Georgia." His body started tensing up from all the action that came from his dream. "It was so intense for me; it was getting really scary."

"Numbuh 5 understands how you feel," the French/African American girl reassured him, putting a hand on his shoulder to calm his nerves. "It's hard being the leader of your sector sometimes, especially all those villains trying to catch you off guard and all those dates you have planned with a certain girl outside the Kids Next Door, which Numbuh 5 has learned to just take in stride."

"I guess," Nigel responded, his eyes welling up with tears from all the stress of that day. "It can be hard at times. Especially when it's inspection day." He looked at the stack of books his second-in-command was carrying, then at his file. "Wake up Numbuhs 2-4," he said, his voice steady yet urgent. "We have an important announcement at 9:00, and I don't want anyone to be late."

"With pleasure," Abby responded, jumping off to wake the others.

Numbuh 1 watched her, wiping sleep and tears from his eyes in anticipation for where he would be sent next. Would it be in Georgia, with all its historical artifacts and fruit cider bubbling from within its fields? Would he be flown over to French Guiana, with palm trees and French flags (and the flag of its own) surrounding the villages and temple grounds? Would it be somewhere in Nebraska near where Sector G (another sector taking part in the inspections) was headquartered in Grover, surrounded by farms and fields and known for its high-quality produce? Possibly in Turkey, where spicy and savory scents laced the air and where towering mosques greeted visitors and locals alike? The possibilities were endless, but any way, the operatives were going to have some interesting adventures in inspection, especially Wally, who was in for quite possibly the biggest surprise of his life. Feeling the weight of the responsibility on his shoulders, Nigel made his way back to his room to get dressed, ready to take on the honor of making this special announcement to his sectormates and help them get ready for their mission in different parts of the world.