Tag
By Cybra
A/N: A little friendship fic between Numbuh 1 and Numbuh 2 because I love them so much. It's also a little exercise to see if I can write a fic that's in third person entirely without dialogue. Think of it like writing "THE-FLY."
Disclaimer: Codename: Kids Next Door is the creation of the brilliant Tom Warburton. How did he do it?
His newly-improved fly suit strapped on, Numbuh 2 buzzed away from the Tree House. The ground dropped away from him as he flew higher and higher. The massive headquarters of Sector V shrank to miniature size as the tree that housed it in shrank to the size of a banzai.
The cool air of the higher altitude swept through his body. It seemed to give the feeling that gravity no longer had a hold on him.
The clouds, though they looked so large in the sky, exploded to gargantuan size as he approached them. They no longer were misshapen cotton balls. They had transformed into white puffy canyons waiting to be explored.
And they would be explored as soon as Two finished the tests on the improvements to the fly suit. So far, the altitude test was going along swimmingly. Next up were the speed and agility tests.
The fly suit had always been the ideal one-kid flight suit when it came to agility. Its weaknesses rested mostly in speed and height. It could fly fairly high (but still too low for Numbuh 2's tastes), but the jet packs and jet boots certainly exceeded the fly suit's admirable speed capabilities. Perhaps the upgrades he had just made would help make up the difference while keeping the fly suit ahead in the agility department. The pilot did have a personal, slightly egotistical stake in the entire business.
A flash of red from slightly above and to his right caught his eye. Smirking to himself, Numbuh 2 veered himself in the direction of the lazily flying bit of red.
So, he had not been the only one taking advantage of the good flying weather.
Sure enough, Numbuh 1 was using his jet boots to fly aimlessly among the clouds. There had been no mistaking that red sweater.
Numbuh 2 pulled up parallel to his leader yet kept himself about five yards away. In the skies, there were certain manners that one had. Unless you were planning to attack, you tried to not only respect other flyers' personal space but also make sure you did not unintentionally crash into them while you were saying "hello." Besides, the pilot was unsure if One wanted company.
Instead, Two waited until he was certain One had noticed him until he rocked back and forth. It was a rather weak version of the fighter pilots' wiggle-waggle salute in Numbuh 2's opinion but it got the job done. It was certainly better than that old Super Bowl Pepsi commercial.[1]
The leader returned the greeting with a lazy barrel roll. Numbuh 2 approved. The wiggle-waggle salute would have looked rather idiotic if Numbuh 1 had spread his arms out and done it. It only looked good if a flyer's flight capabilities had some sort of wings.
The leader straightened up and pulled into a hover as Numbuh 2 continued on his way, the pilot forcing the fly suit to fly as fast as it could go.
The speed test proved to be a success. There was a definite improvement. Still, it was not quite in the class of the jet packs and jet boots. Plus there had been that recent upgrade on both, which Numbuh 2 was certain to keep them ahead.
Next, the pilot darted back and forth, delighting in the thrill of slicing through the soft clouds. As part of the test, he deliberately sharply turned through tight spots in the clouds and then turned back to examine the damage.
Success once more. There was less damage than there normally would have been. Jet boot users especially would weep for such control.
The Brit flew in front of the American, hovering for a moment and raising an eyebrow. With a smirk, he angled away, leaving only jet backwash.
Numbuh 2 grinned. So, Numbuh 1 was in the mood to play. Well, both of them knew who was going to win this game of tag.
Still, playing tag with the jet boots was a bit risky. They were not called "the disasters in leather" for nothing. The temperamental things might flameout if the leader decided to be overly bold in his maneuvering.
Numbuh 2 pushed these thoughts out of his mind. The boys would be careful. Both knew what to expect, and One was a master of the jet boots. He had the least number of flameouts.
The American darted around a cloud, trying to cut Numbuh 1 off, but Numbuh 1 flew off in the opposite direction. Two grumbled in slight annoyance. One was not going to hold back on speed just because the fly suit was slower; he knew his opponent would not hold back on using the fly suit's own strengths.
Through the puffy white canyons in a game of cat and mouse they flew. Sometimes, Two would catch a glimpse of One's red shirt or come within centimeters of tagging his friend. But the leader would twist and hit the jets, saving these bursts of energy for narrow escapes.
However, the British boy had a problem of leaving a trail whenever he entered into a cloud. A nice little hole opened up whenever he penetrated the puffy whiteness, a hole the American was more than ready to pounce upon.
Yet the leader got lucky on one occasion when a cloud already had a hole in it just large enough for him to slip through and disappear into the vastness, making the chase difficult for Two. Still, this only made the game more interesting and encouraged the pilot to seek him out.
Inside the immense cloud was like the interior a cave networked with smaller caves. Two hovered in the center, unsure of where to look.
Backwash from behind made Numbuh 2 turn his head to see Numbuh 1 zip away from him and exit through the entrance. There was no gloating laugh, but Numbuh 2 could tell without looking that the Brit had a smirk on his face. Not only had the pilot been had, he had been buzzed. Now the game was definitely personal.
Two about-faced faster than Numbuh 1 could have ever hoped to have and barged right through the wall. The pair looped around the darkening clouds as thunder began to rumble.
Closer and closer Two's hand came to his prey as they continued to twist. On a straight path, One would have easily outrun him, but Numbuh 2 forced the leader to make constant turns even though they were not sharp enough to force a flameout. Now the pilot had the advantage.
In order to savor his victory, Two waited until he was above Numbuh 1 before tagging him on the shoulder. The pair immediately pulled apart, the pilot easily pulling to a hovering stop while the leader swooped around to slow down before doing so.
They faced each other, smiles on their faces. Both had known the outcome before the game had even begun. When it came to the skies, Numbuh 1 would always be number two when competing against Numbuh 2.
Rain began to fall, and the pair veered downwards towards the Tree House, swooping into the hangar so Numbuh 5 could finally close the door.
Game over until another day.
[1] Does anyone remember the Super Bowl Pepsi commercial with the skydiver and the Canada goose? The skydiver wiggles his fingers at the goose, and the goose wiggles its feathers in response.