Blech. This is terrible.

Disclaimer: Nope.

"Hey, Numbuh Five?"

Abby glanced up from her magazine, blinking rapidly. She really shouldn't have been reading without her glasses and she knew it. It gave her headaches for hours on end. Speaking of headaches, Hoagie had his arms and chin resting on the back of the worn couch, looking at her expectantly.

"What?" If it had been anyone else, she would have snapped at them. Instead, she allowed the barest taint of annoyance to color her voice. He didn't seem to notice. As a matter of fact, he never seemed to notice when she was irritated.

"Who's second in command?"

She quirked an amused eyebrow. How very like him to ask that. It was almost predictable. "Technically? Or who actually acts upon the duty?" Abby folded the glossy paper closed and leaned against the arm of the sofa casually. "Because technically, Numbuh Five is. But she sure don't act like it."

His brow furrowed. "That's what I mean. Usually, like in all of the other sectors, the second flies the mission ship."

She grinned at him, opening the shimmering pages once more. "And usually, kids don't fight giant turnips. Sector V ain't exactly normal, Numbuh Two."

Hoagie sighed and vaulted over the couch to sit next to her. "You're right."

Abby winked at him and went back to her article. "Baby, Numbuh Five is always right."

That was icky. Maybe I'll attempt something like this another time. Review?

Love always, (though I don't really show it with this ucky writing...)