excited phineas feet kicks. that is all.

*is swaddled*

Being a Mindless Animal Must Get Tiring

--

“What do you think it means when your sister can talk to bees?”

“…I have no idea how to answer that question, Stace.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” she giggles, switching the phone to her other ear. “I guess we both have weird siblings.

Candace chuckles. “At least Ginger doesn’t drive you crazy.”

“She does. You just don’t see it. Maybe we should start an older sisters’ club.”

“That’d be nice.”

Stacy opens her mouth to respond, but the doorbell cuts her off. “Ah, sorry Candace, I gotta go. Good luck with busting today.”

“Thanks, Stace! See ya!”

The line clicks and Stacy sticks her phone in her pocket, heading to the front door. She knows better than to just open it without thinking, especially since she’s alone in the house today. She peers through the peephole, at first assuming one of Ginger’s friends must have ding-dong ditched her. Upon closer inspection, and looking a little further down, she realizes that isn’t the case.

Frowning, she unlocks the door and opens it, kneeling down. “Perry, you okay?”

The platypus, standing on his back legs, has his shoulders slumped, looking…really tired. It’s still strange, seeing Perry like this, but Stacy thinks she’s finally getting used to it. He’s just another member of the Flynn-Fletcher family…he just can’t talk and his biggest secret has been entrusted to her, of all people. He shrugs. Stacy nods, taking his hand.

“Why don’t you come in? No one’s home today.” She leads him into the house, shutting the door with her hip. If she thinks about it, Perry is basically just a tiny adult. Being a secret agent must have its drawbacks, too. So she situates him on the couch and goes to the fridge, taking out two boxes of juice and a plate of fruit her mother left behind.

When she sits down, she’s given a look she can only interpret as gratefulness. He takes the juice box in one hand and lifts the other, signing something.

“Oh, okay, give me a second, I’m a little rusty.” She’d been learning basic sign language, mostly to try and impress her mother, but also because it’s the one way she can communicate with Perry. He must have been taught it at the agency years ago. She turns her body to face him completely, nodding for him to go again.

Thank you. It’s been a rough week.

Stacy nods, popping a grape into her mouth. “Must get pretty tiring having to pretend to be mindless every day.”

Perry gives her a wry smile, bringing the juice box straw to his bill. He doesn’t even need to sign anything. She knows he’s thinking, You have no idea.

just kids being kids

Platypuses Get Sick, Too

--

Perry knew something was wrong the moment he woke up.

It started with the dizziness, like he’d been struck on the head one too many times, but that wasn’t actually the case. As far as he remembered, Doofenshmirtz hadn’t even left a scratch on him yesterday. He stood on the edge of Phineas’s bed, noticing that the floor seemed a lot further away than it used to be. The dizziness got worse.

“Good morning, Ferb! Good morning, Perry! Let’s get out there and make today count. We have so many blueprints to look through!” Phineas exclaimed, jumping out of bed. Ferb wasn’t far behind, nodding in agreement as he got up from his bed. They walked to their closets, Phineas chatting all the way.

Perry watched them for a moment, then turned his gaze back toward the floor. He couldn’t remember a time he’d felt so woozy, but he had spent years hopping off of this bed, so it shouldn’t be a problem. His eyes were just playing tricks on him. The floor was closer than he thought, he just had to jump.

Bending his legs, he jumped, and with a rather loud thud landed right on his face in the wood. Pain surged from his bill and spread across the rest of his face; and now he had a headache.

“Perry!” When he lifted his head, both boys were crouching beside him, looking concerned. Phineas reached over to pet him gently, which made him feel a little better. “Are you okay, boy? You’ve never fallen like that before.”

Perry’s teeth chattered weakly, dissolving into a cough as he tried to stand up, his legs wobbling. Ferb frowned, gently scooping him up into his arms. “He’s warm,” he said. “He might be sick.”

That would explain it, but that didn’t mean Perry had to like that idea. He was a secret agent and a germaphobe. He shouldn’t have to worry about illness. And yet… “Sick?” Phineas repeated, looking even more worried. “We have to go tell Mom and Dad. Maybe they’ll know what to do. Don’t worry, Perry, we’ll help you feel better soon.”

Perry couldn’t stick around, he knew he had to go into work. No doubt Doofenshmirtz was doing something . As Ferb carried him down the stairs, he waited for an opening, which came in the form of Linda and Candace, appearing in the kitchen. Phineas talked about Perry’s symptoms while Ferb nodded along. “Oh, dear. That’s not good,” Linda sighed, rubbing Perry’s head. “Boys, why don’t you come help me set up his bed, water and medicine, and Candace, you stay with Perry and make sure he doesn’t worsen.”

He was placed down on the couch beside the girl, who ran a hand down his back. “Aw, you don’t look so good, Perry,” she said, before being interrupted by her vibrating cell phone. “Oh, hey, Stace! I’m watching Perry for a bit. Yeah, but I can come over after.” When she turned away, Perry took his chance, managing to hop off the couch with more grace than when he jumped off the bed, and rolled under the rug, disappearing down one of the tubes.

The air pressure made his eyes water, but he did his best to ignore it as he fumbled for his hat, soon landing in the familiar red chair. What wasn’t familiar was the harsh, bright lights of his lair made his headache worse. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to compose himself.

“Ah, good morning, Agent P.” Monogram’s voice suddenly pierced the quiet, and Perry opened his eyes blearily. “Doofenshmirtz is up to his old tricks again. We need you to…” Trailing off, the man’s brow furrowed and he leaned closer, seemingly interested in something. “Carl,” he began curiously, without looking away, “Is it possible for platypuses to be pale?”

Carl slid into view on the monitor, adjusting his glasses. Now they were both staring at him. “You’re right, sir. His teal fur isn’t as bright today.” Perry chattered his teeth, hoping to show his annoyance, but it came out weaker than he intended it to. “Uh, oh. Agent P, are you feeling okay?”