"Hey," a slightly chubby boy looked up as a red head stood opposite the desk. Surprised he lifted his head. "Hey," a blush crept up the back of his neck – he didn't know why.
"Someone sittin' here?" she asked.
"Er, no," he stammered, knocking over a pot of crayons a he did so. "Only me," a small smile slipped onto his face. The red head rolled here eyes, as she helped him pick up the pencils. "Stupid boy."
He loved éclairs, absolutely loved, them – and probably ate too much of them… but when she looked at him with those deep bright green eyes…. He thought that he loved something a lot more than éclairs.
"Gimmie tha'!" the girl in question growled, as she ripped the flashlight away from his hands – ignoring his protests of it's broken! Rolling her eyes she flipped the switch, and bright light shone down the tunnel.
It wasn't ever dark when he was holding her.
5. Seeking Solace
Shouting angrily he slammed the door to the tree house and stalked up to his room, making his presence known as his feet stomped up the stairs, slamming his own door – just to make a point. Numbuh 5 sighed and put her magazine down, glancing over to Numbuh 1.
"Tha' time again, eh Boss?" she asked standing up and stretching, knowing when she was needed.
6. Break Away
"And you're sure you're not goin' out?" a short blonde haired boy asked grinning as he took a good look at the tightly hugging couple.
"Nah," the American boy replied, as he hugged the girl back, relishing in the feeling.
"Wha' me goin' out with him?" the girl asked irritably, pulling away.
"All operatives for OPERATION: P.E.A.K please make their way to their respective stations." Numbuh 362's voice broke the silence through the speakers. The larger, well-built boy swallowed, nerves near braking point, and glanced down at the girl in his arms – anybody with sharp eyesight would have seen that their hands never left each other's.
"Am I in heaven?" a weak voice asked as the owner opened his eyes and glanced around the bright room.
A red head spun around as she heard the voice, and though she hated showing weakness but she ran to his bedside.
"Numbuh 2?" she asked frantically.
He looked at her – blue eyes shining with pain. "Am I in heaven? 'Coz I think I see an angel starin' at me…" he trailed off and took in a painful breath.
She didn't know whether to cry or laugh – so she took a page out of Numbuh 5's book, and hit him instead.
A full grown man held the small boy closely to his chest, a short mop of rusty red hair sat tufted on top of his head, and when he opened his little dark green eyes for the first time to stare at his father, Hoagie P. Gillian fell in love all over again.
Groaning the red head banged her head against the windows glass. Feeling the rumble of the old RV camping van chug over the rubble stricken road. She whimpered pathetically and buried her face into her hands.
"Abby can feel her ear drums bursting," Numbuh 5 had her cap pulled over her ears, and even Kuki was starting to tire from the noise, whereas Rachel had already stolen the nearest ipod and cranked the music up to full volume. "Make it stop!" Fanny cried as she clamped her hands over her ears.
She had to remind her and her girls never to go on a road trip with the Sector V boys – and a tape of the Best Camping Songs
10. Breathe Again
The scruffy haired man let out a sigh of relief as the iron grip on his hand released, and blew some loose hairs away from his wife's' sweaty forehead, smiling.
"I'm so proud of you," he whispered, quietly as the midwife handed their second born son to the expectant father, who experienced a strange bout of déjà vu as the tiny baby yawned and let out a breath, opening his pale blue-grey eyes.
Smiling she ducked her head. "I'll be right outside if you need me…" she trailed off grinning.
"Thanks Kooks," he smiled back, almost laughing at the absurdity of it all. There resting in his arms, where two red headed twins, both with scruffy rowan red hair. His wife cocked an eyebrow at the scenario, before giggling.
"Y'know, we should call them Fred and George,"
"Y'know," he parroted back. "You jokes are gettin' worse than mine,"
She ducked her head and flung out of the room, the confused occupants watching her as she charged down the hallway. There was a soft thunk and a yelp. "It wasn't me who was the first one to bring up 19th Century!"
The teen grinned at her, his pearly teeth dancing in the sunlight, and she was glad the roaring engine was covering up the sound of her furiously beating heart. Why was she doing this again? "Ya ready Hoagie?" the pilot asked as the teen prepared for the jump, bringing her close into his arms.
Whispering into her ear, "It's only the jumping part that scares people, the rest is fine." She already had an answer to her question – as she pressed into his chest, and felt his arms wrap around her that little bit tighter.
Mr Green grinned at his best friends student list for the New Year. "Sorry to hear that you got that, pair?"
The other teacher looked at him. "Which pair?" Miss Marchess asked with a quirked eyebrow.
"Hoagie P. Gilligan! Get your bony, tight butt back here so I can kick it personally meself!" a furious yell bounced down the corridor – chasing after a laughing brown haired boy.
Miss Marchess, glowered at Mr Green with her burnt brown eyes. "You don't know how much I hate you right now… do you?"
"Yup!" he grinned, pulling his folder closer to his chest, and walking down the corridor. Craning his neck back to get a look at her as he entered his homeroom he yelled; "Good Luck!"
Even when she was sad, up to her eyeballs in paperwork, fretting about the latest exam (which was normally months away), or near to a nervous breakdown. He'd always seem to standing there with a sheepish smile, and her favourite steaming mug.
It was something no one else could give to her, or that she would give in return.
When the fighting was over, Hoagie always hated the angry steaming silence that seemed to fill the void between them.
"Daddy?" a little five-year-old boy, held the large book up to his father, large Azure blue eyes sparkling up at him. "Can you read to George and Me?" Chuckling the father picked the little red head up into his arms, and read the front cover: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone.
No, she told herself furiously, she was not watching the boys work out, and she was not watching him. Quickly she let her eyes drift down to watch the newly forming muscles ripple over his torso as he lifted – she swallowed and bit her lip. Glancing through the large bay windows of the gym she felt like a kid in a candy store.
"You're staring…" the voice of her best friend reverberated around her head.
She whirled round, her cheeks so flushed that her freckles had disappeared. "No I'm not!" she snapped, glowering at her BBF.
Rachel let out a tinkling laugh, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, before turning she added. "I'd wipe that blood of your lip…" she paused, "And get cooled down."
Fanny threw up her arms into the air, letting out an infuriating growl, and stormed off down the metal corridor. Taking a glance through the large bay window Rachel watched the boys work out… looking for what Fanny had been looking for. Though Numbuh 60 did have a very nice…
"HAH!" there was a yell. "Caught YE!"
Well she hadn't been the one ask for a gym in the GKND.
"Now you see a rainbow because the light…" he paused and glanced down at the sleeping figure on his chest, smiling slightly. "Oh, Francine," the late teen murmured softly, brushing a copper strand of hair out of her face. "Only you could fall asleep when watching a rainbow…" he trailed off and was lost in her calm beauty as she slept – it was rare for anyone to see the fiery red head this peaceful.
She snuffled, thought smiling slightly. "And only you," she looked up into his eyes and grinned cheekily. "Could scientifically explain the beauty of a rainbow."
He cocked his head to one side, sky blue eyes dancing with humour, and lent low towards her, tickling breath dancing over her lips. "And how exactly do I explain the scientifically beauty of you?"
When he heard that she had been shot in act of duty, and may have to have a leg amputated – his normal scientific black and white – faded into grey - and he saw stars.
"Please be okay, please, dear God, please be okay…" a woman pushed her away through the crowd of laughing, crying – and kissing people. Though she was fully dressed in uniform - she was completely ignored. Her eyes searched desperately for him – though the last she had heard of him was that his plane had been shot down somewhere over some desert or another. Taking a deep steady breath, she willed her racing heart to stop, she needed to be strong, he was her rock, and she was his, his ying to her yang. "Please, please," she repeated. She jumped as she felt a soft hand on her arm.
"Officer?" she heard a male voice ask. "Could you help me?" mentally she winced; right now she was off duty, and looking for someone, a very particular someone.
She tugged gently out of the grip, not even bothering to look round. "Look I'm sorry but I'm looking for someone… and I need to find him now,"
Francine started growing impatient, and gritted her teeth. Spinning round she almost yelled in the man's face, but then suddenly she realised who he was. "Oh, God! Hoagie!" she cried, tears of happiness and joy flowing down her face, as she threw herself into his arms, burying her face into his neck. "They said it was you…" she sobbed, her arms tightening around his chest. "They rang and told that you had been taken down…" when she was younger she would have slapped him across the face and made him promise never to risk his life again – but she'd realised that never seemed to work – the amount of times that the idiot had put himself in danger.
He brought her out of his arms and cupped her face, stroking the salty tears away from her freckle-spattered cheeks, and looked her in the eyes. "I've got one thing to ask you Miss Francine Fullbright…" he trailed off, and took her hands, (she noticed that he winced, and that there was a bloody bandage wrapped tightly around his left arm). Gingerly he got down onto one knee, and took a small black box out of his pocket, looking up at her with the most serious expression she'd ever seen etched over his face. "Will you give me the honour of becoming Mrs. Francine Gilligan?"
And what do you, think that the answer was?