Work Text:
Stacy was beginning to think she’d just imagined the whole thing.
The bus crashing through the wall of her house. The pharmacist. Candace’s family’s pet platypus standing on two feet, personally fist-fighting said pharmacist until the guy ran away because he thought Stacy was a horror movie monster. Perry handing her a pamphlet that threatened to have her memories erased and him torn away from his family, wearing the saddest, wettest expression she’d ever seen on a platypus.
So a week or two later, Stacy found herself approaching Perry in Candace’s living room, and then following him out to her house to avoid the surveillance cameras that were apparently everywhere in the Flynn-Fletcher home, which was a whole other can of worms, because if she didn’t get some kind of confirmation one way or another, the suspense might actually kill her.
Perry didn’t give her his phone number.
Of course he didn’t. That would have been too risky for him, and Stacy was quickly learning that her honorary sister’s pet platypus was nothing if not paranoid.
Instead he took her phone without so much as a word, did something complicated over the course of about twenty minutes, and then handed her a device with a couple of brand-new apps and a special folder that made her put in a password to access them. There was some sort of message app with a feather on the icon called Hermes, plus a security app Perry showed her how to use that could do cool things like hiding the new apps for a set period of time, or send some kind of emergency beacon. It was good enough for Stacy. If nothing else, it was some indication that she didn’t just hallucinate the whole thing.
And Hermes was weird. There was only one contact available, simply labelled P1, with no obvious way to add anyone else. There was no way to call, or to attach files of any kind. It talked to the security app, in that it had settings to wipe her whole message history when she hid the app, or to send emergency pings that had a whole routine if they weren’t answered in a set time. And that was it.
Perry hesitated. He pulled a phone out from behind him somewhere, one that looked an awful lot like the phone Phineas and Ferb had made for Candace. He typed for a few seconds, one finger at a time like an old person, and the message dinged into place.
P1: > emergencies🚨only?
Maybe Stacy was imagining it, but she thought he looked guilty. “Perry,” she said, “I’m a teenager. You know this.”
P1: > the less said, the bettr.
“But consider: I’ll be a lot better at keeping your secret if I a) know for a fact that I didn’t hallucinate the whole mess, and b) have someone I can ask my questions to instead of literally exploding from frustrated curiosity.” Stacy plopped herself down on her desk chair. She was trying to put a confident face on, but nerves still churned in her stomach. She didn’t know this version of Perry. She didn’t know his organization, or the boss he was so afraid of, or the weird old pharmacist-veterinarian guy he apparently fought nearly every day. She did, however, know how to point out reasonable excuses to somebody who was too caught up in rules and worry to have fun.
Besides, it was funny how much easier Perry was to read when he stood on two feet and acted like a human. Right now, for example, he was shifting from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable and just as nervous as she was.
“Please?” Stacy pressed. “I haven’t lost a phone since I was eight, and if anyone might go through it, I’ll clear the message history like you showed me. If I’m texting you too much, just let me know and I’ll shut up for a while. I promise, I won’t make it a problem for you.”
Was it weird that Stacy wanted to get to know this side of her best friend’s family pet this badly? Especially when Candace herself, and Phineas and Ferb, couldn’t get to know him themselves? She felt kinda bad about it, but also… wasn’t it better that someone might be able to look out for Perry, even if it wasn’t his family?
Perry clenched and unclenched his fists. He didn’t look angry… maybe he was feeling indecisive? He cast a glance out the window—and then all at once, seemed to make up his mind. He whipped his phone back out from wherever it came from and started typing.
P1: > 🚫ur💼 2 keep me safe, the first text came through.
P1: > I wont always answer.
P1: > and no personal info here. for u or me.
“But I can text you?” Stacy perked up. “I won’t pester you too too much, I promise!”
She didn’t know how to interpret the look Perry gave her, other than that there was a soft little smile attached, so it was probably fine. The eventual thumbs up, though, she understood.
“Thank you thank you thank you!” Stacy tried to keep her squeal of excitement on the inside, but she couldn’t stop herself from grinning. “Oh, this is gonna be great! I have so many questions- I can be cool, though. I can be cool. I’ll spread it out! One question a day, max!”
Again, Perry was definitely making some kind of expression, and Stacy had no idea how to interpret it. But apparently their time was up, because after a second or two of standing around, Perry tipped his hat at her, turned, and… launched himself out the window on a grappling hook.
Huh.
Stacy: > sooooo
Stacy: > what was that about cameras?
P1: > 🤐
Stacy: > it’s a secret?
Stacy: > okay but like
Stacy: > 95% of the time, if you’re not disappeared, you’re at the house
Stacy: > what if I need to talk to you? or get your attention?
Stacy: > or if YOU need MY attention?
Stacy: > and I don’t know where the cameras are?
Stacy: > also that seems really creepy
Stacy: > but like
Stacy: > for practical reasons
Stacy: > i should probably know?
P1 is typing…
Stacy waited impatiently. Candace was almost ready to go, unless she got distracted, but she wanted an answer. It creeped her out, to feel like she was being watched like that. It creeped her out worse that the Flynn-Fletchers didn’t even know.
P1: >
- Flynn-Fletcher house:
- Video- front yard, public areas
- Audio- public areas, bedrooms, bathrooms
- Backyard video keeps glitching
- Perimeter:
- Video- patchy coverage of street w/in 1 block
- Video- 2411, 2302, 2405, 2312 🍁Drive perimeter
Stacy let out a choked laugh. That was—that really was a lot to take in. Audio recordings in the Flynn-Fletcher’s bathrooms? Their bedrooms? Better that then video, probably, but still. Creepy. And wasn’t one of those other houses on the list Isabella’s place? How badly was Isabella’s house being watched?
P1: > I tried 2 rein them in.
Stacy: > so it could have been worse???
P1: > ✔️
Stacy: > slightly terrifying but okay then
Stacy: > thanks for admitting it ig
Read at 1:48 pm.
Stacy: > wait is this why the tri-state area has a bajillion teal platypuses?
Stacy: > platypi
Stacy: > platypodes
Stacy: > i mean
Stacy: > are all of you agents????
P1: > ⛔
Stacy: > p.
Stacy: > p u cant just leave me hanging!
[P1] has muted [Stacy] for 480 minutes.
Stacy: > okay I get why that one was off-limits
Stacy: > totally unrelated question: how do I change my screen name???
Stacy: > I’ve been trying to mess with the chat settings and its not doing anything
P1: > ↗️🍔🕶️
Stacy: > ???
P1: > hamburger menu @ top right
P1: > touch sunglasses
Stacy is typing…
[Stacy]’s name is now [Stace].
[Stace]’s name is now [keepin it cool].
[keepin it cool]’s name is now [Teal Queen].
[Teal Queen] has set the chat color to [teal].
[P1] has set the chat color to [orange].
[Teal Queen]’s name is now [SMH].
P1: > ?
SMH: > so much hate
SMH: > my middle name does not start with an m dw
P1: > ✔️
SMH: > why does this menu happen entirely through emojis anyway?
P1: > not all agents can read.
P1: > different species have different visual abilities.
P1: > + screenreaders are hard when you cant publicly have a phone.
SMH: > that makes sense i guess
SMH: > but like
SMH: > why emojis tho??? They’re so ambiguous? And like. For your settings???
P1: > different colors, sizes, and shapes.
SMH: > i guess that might make it easier to tell them apart…
SMH: > it would be nicer to read emojis blown up all huge on a phone screen than text
SMH: > a couple emojis at a time instead of words getting cut off
SMH: > like reading a tumblr post with too many reblogs
SMH: > one letter at a time
SMH: > dont a bunch of animals not see in color though?
SMH: > it seems like that would kinda make the emoji thing harder to see…
P1: > also. Danville area admin likes it.
SMH: > …hey should i be bringing you leftovers?
SMH: > we still have some spaghetti left from the other night
SMH: > i don’t think mom would notice if i gave some to you
Stacy didn’t see a reply in the making just yet, but that was pretty normal for Perry. He was probably still busy with his family, and he was a slow typer at the best of times. Besides, Stacy had plenty of things to think about.
A few minutes later, she heard a ding!
P1: > ?
Wasn’t it obvious? Stacy felt a surge of guilt. This was Perry’s every day. Maybe he’d just kind of stopped noticing, after a while.
SMH: > i mean doesn’t it bother you?
SMH: > eating frozen bugs and kibble and things
SMH: > and also just kinda the whole fact that other people control what you eat
SMH: > and when and how much and everything about it
SMH: > and can kick you off the furniture and put you on a leash
SMH: > stuff like that
There was a short pause before Perry responded.
P1: > 🚫
And then nothing. Nothing. Stacy flopped onto her bed, groaning in frustration. And then, because there was still no response except a single emoji, she started typing again.
SMH: > i might need an actual verbal response on this one P
SMH: > what do you MEAN no?
SMH: > i would be clawing at the walls!
SMH: > and you don’t have to sugar-coat it!
SMH: > i’m NOT your host family!
SMH: > If you want me to bring you some slushie dog every week so you can eat something other than kibble, i might need help with funding but i will do that!
P1: > It doesn’t bother me.
Stacy frowned. She’d been in the middle of a message. Perry usually took some time to come up with words, but he’d inserted himself almost immediately. Was he just that sure of himself?
And now he’d stopped, again, even though that didn’t make any sense.
SMH: > ???
Stacy prompted him and then settled down to wait. She wasn’t about to switch to Perry’s style of texting anytime soon, but the occasional mannerism had infected her despite her best efforts. P had assured her he could read just fine. And honestly, even if he couldn’t, Stacy was not looking to introduce Candace to emoji-spam without a very good cause.
P1: > The kibble I get is mostly dried 🦐. It’s 👍.
P1: > If I need more food I can get it.
P1: > The leash is a polite fiction.
P1: > It’s true that my life is managed by others.
P1: > I call it “being permanently on call at my full-time public-facing job”.
P1: > This was more than 1 question.
That was more words in a few minutes than she’d seen from Perry… probably ever. The platypus was more terse even than Candace’s step-brother, which was seriously impressive, and this was more words than she usually heard from Ferb in a day. Stacy read it over again. Was he… upset with her? At the question? Or did he just have more words about this than he did about most things?
P1: > Did I say something wrong?
Stacy froze. Then she typed again, almost frantically.
SMH: > no!
SMH: > no i just
SMH: > don’t understand?
P1: > ?
[P1 is typing…]
P1: > I don’t understand either.
SMH: > doesn’t any of it bother you?
SMH: > i mean
SMH: > i know you said no
SMH: > but
SMH: > wouldnt u rather b treated like a person?
Another long pause followed. Stacy waited anxiously at first, then started scrolling through her tumblr dash. It wouldn’t be the first time Perry had taken several minutes to send a single-emoji response. Besides, she was trying to actually believe that the guy wasn’t mad, so it wouldn’t help to keep herself waiting.
And finally, almost half an hour later, it happened.
P1: > 🚫🧍♂️.
P1: > Platypus.
P1: > 🔻🟩 🫂🅿️
P1: > 🅿️🫶 👌👌↩️⭕↪️🤚🤚.
What.
P1 : > pet = person
P1 : > pet🚫 =🧍♂️.
P1 : > 🚫 want 2 b🧍♂️.
P1 : > + I already have 2 make 2 many hard choices.
P1 : > it is nice to 🛑.
That took Stacy more than a moment to parse. The long string of emojis, especially- this might be easier for Perry, somehow, but it certainly wasn’t to her. 🅿️ was easy enough. She assumed that meant Perry, since there wasn’t a platypus emoji on her phone’s keyboard. But most of the rest of it…
Maybe the triangle and the square were meant to be Phineas and Ferb? That would track. The standing man had to be person… or, no, that didn’t make sense. Maybe it meant human?
SMH: > 👌👌↩️⭕↪️🤚🤚?
She copy-pasted it in.
After a moment, Perry replied.
P1: > family
P1: > asl word
P1: > family is not quite the word i want. This is.
P1: > all of u.
P1: > my humans.
It wasn’t like Stacy understood.
But, put like that… Perry considered himself a pet, right?
SMH: > okay but
SMH: > going to the vet? getting poked and prodded without warning like that?
SMH: > thats not part of a job p.
SMH: > what if they want something done that you dont?
She wasn’t about to ask a guy if he’d been neutered or not, but she definitely knew that most pets were. But even beyond that- what if he got ill? What if something happened and he had to get de-clawed or something? Could platypuses even get de-clawed?
P1: > I have company health insurance.
P1: > Anything serious and they redirect to HQ.
P1: > Also my usual vet knows who I am.
P1: > Nobody likes going to the vet.
P1: > It’s fine.
P1: > Anything else?
SMH: > 🚫
And then, belatedly:
SMH: > sorry for all the questions and personal stuff
Stacy wasn’t sure she believed him. But it was a load off her back to not feel like she had to start planning secret extra meals for the guy. And he definitely did have opinions about it, apparently.
So… great.
No extra work for Stacy. It would be pretty messed up of her to say all that stuff about self-determination and control, and then proceed to ignore it because she didn’t believe him.
And maybe if she just kept telling herself, she’d stop feeling like such a rotten excuse for a human being whenever she saw Perry in pet mode.
~~~
Stacy was hanging with Candace at the mall after a movie trip.
Oh, Candace had spotted Jeremy a few times, gone tongue-tied, and talked to him, but he was at work. She couldn’t spend all day chatting with Jeremy. And the boys, so far, hadn’t yet expanded their project for today as far as the Danville Mall.
They’d done two rounds of shopping so far (window-shopping, really, considering neither of them had an actual regular job), seen the movie they wanted to watch, and had just settled down at the food court for burritos. Maybe she’d splurge, if Phineas and Ferb hadn’t distracted Candace yet by then, and set them up at the pottery-painting place! They had these new ceramic bugs that she was dying to paint—
Her phone dinged.
A text?
Stacy fumbled her phone out of her bag, balancing her burrito tray in her other hand to see—not a text.
It wasn’t a normal text.
A little orange 1 button hovered over the password-protected folder in her apps menu.
Which was weird, right?
Because Perry never initiated conversations with her. Never. If it weren’t for the fact that Perry was very clearly the most stiff-necked professional adult she’d met in her life, Stacy would probably have assumed he hated her, at this point.
Hopefully Candace wouldn’t notice what she was doing.
P1: > 🫵🏡?
Simple enough.
Why would Perry care whether she was home—oh, no. What if there was another great big hole in the wall, now? It had taken almost two months for the last hole to get fixed, even with the insurance claim apparently moving weirdly smoothly.
SMH: > not rn. why???
It wasn’t too hard to settle down in a booth with her food. Candace was already there, staring moodily at her plate.
“Hmm. Hey, Stacy. What do you think the odds are my burrito comes alive before I can take a bite?”
Was she still worried about that stuff?
Her phone dinged. Stacy checked it.
P1: > 👍
P1: > dw about it
That was not an answer.
“Stacy?” Candace prodded.
“Hm?” she looked up—so much for being subtle. Candace was looking right at her, eyes narrowed. “Oh, right. Uh… it’ll probably be fine, I think?” Stacy wasn’t entirely sure what the question had been.
“If my burrito grows legs and attacks me?”
Stacy wrinkled her nose. What could she even say to that? “Why would it grow legs and attack you?”
Candace sighed, slumping back against the bench. “I don’t know!” she groaned. “The vending machines did, and that wasn’t even Phineas and Ferb! Plus, the movie got me thinking about it. Now I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“Ah.” That made sense. Attack of the Killer Cheeseboard had been a fun little thriller, not too scary, but Candace had always had a weirdly low tolerance for horror.
SMH: > what do you MEAN dw about it??? is my house ok?
A pause, on the long side but nothing unusual for Perry.
P1: > ✔️
P1: > dont come home rn.
P1: > or
P1: > nvm.
Less than helpful, still. But don’t come home right now? That was weird. And Perry wasn’t sure?
SMH: > …why not?
There was no response. Not immediately, anyway.
Stacy frowned down at her phone, but tried to pay attention to her conversation with Candace.
But by the time she made it home, she was still wondering.
The house was still standing.
That was a good start, but Perry had promised it was fine. Stacy eyed the place for any signs of disturbance. Maybe the guy’s OWCA bosses had come through or something, checking up on the repairs?
Slowly, carefully, Stacy made her way upstairs. Mom wasn’t home yet, which made sense—she was supposed to be out late at some coordinator meeting?
Nothing seemed out of place.
She checked her phone again.
SMH: > so should I still stay out of the house or…?
She waited. Minutes passed, and Stacy lingered in the kitchen.
P1: > its ssafe.
That wasn’t… really what she was looking for. Stacy had not gotten the impression it was anything other than safe?
She took a chance.
SMH: > great. Are u?
This time, the response was quick.
P1: > 🚫 ur job.
SMH: > i know???
Of course.
Stupid platypus. It wasn’t her job to keep him safe, but what if she wanted to? What if she wanted to check? Y’know, because she wanted to be friends and cared about his well-being and he’d been acting weird all day?
She wasn’t expecting to hear from him again today. Normally, any time Stacy managed to provoke the guy’s sense of professionalism, that meant the end of their casual conversation.
But Stacy set about making herself a sandwich, and by the time she was sitting down to eat, her phone buzzed against the kitchen counter.
She reached over and grabbed it.
P1: > u know im a person. right?
Um.
SMH: > duh. of course you are
SMH: > what brought this on?
Not that there was a single chance in hell he’d answer that.
P1: > I just. im a person. right?
Oh, what?
Stacy gave herself a moment to stare. Not only had Perry responded, not only had his reply actually had words in it instead of pure emoji, but he was as good as admitting something was wrong, even if he hadn’t given details.
SMH: > you are totally a person
SMH: > promise
A horrible thought occurred to her.
SMH: > did I do something wrong??
For once, thankfully, the response was immediate.
P1: > 🚫
So maybe he just needed some reinforcement, then. Stacy wasn’t sure whether she was glad that even people as cool as Perry needed a little reassurance sometimes, or nervous about what could possibly put Perry, of all people, into such a state, in a way that lasted hours judging by their text history.
SMH: > youre a person, Perry.
SMH: > a platypus and a person.
There was another longer pause.
P1: > could we. go get ☕?
P1: > want 2 💬.
P1: > ill buy dw.
SMH: > like rn?
P1: > if u want. 🚫 pressure.
Stacy might have literally just gotten back from the mall and also had chores to do, but just this once, she could and would make an exception.
SMH: > ✔️
SMH: > cannikin coffee again this time?
P1: > ✔️
