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Agent P was absolutely determined to become a field agent. He’d graduated top of his class, could outmaneuver agents many years his senior in any skill anyone cared to name, and could operate underwater at a level that rivaled fully aquatic agents. The only wrinkle was that in order to be a field agent, he had to get a host family. This was due to some pesky back corner of the OWCA rulebook that everyone agreed was outdated but the management refused to change. Hence, Agent P had spent 3 months in the OWCA pet store trying to get adopted.
It wasn’t a bad place to be per se, just boring, there are only so many times one can pace a tiny cell before it starts feeling like a test trap from basic training. But Agent P could handle it, he was a professional despite being barely a year old. He’d even expected the difficulty, he was an exotic pet, a highly venomous exotic pet at that, and most humans didn’t like having venomous animals in their houses. As a matter of fact the only thing that caught him off guard was how weirded out his three potential buyers had been by the intersex mark on his paperwork. Seriously, why was that a problem? He looked and acted male so who cared if he could technically lay an egg? It wasn’t like he had any desire to do that anyway. He let out an exasperated chitter at the thought and buried himself partway under the towel in his enclosure as the chatter of excited children swept through the store as it opened.
—
It was late afternoon and Agent P was doing his best to look like he was an innocent pet who didn’t know several hundred ways to disarm and disable a grown adult in under a minute. By that he meant he was standing there with an unfocused expression and letting the fact that his fur was still too long for his body do most of the work.
“Oh look Phineas, this one’s looking at you,” A woman’s voice came from the far side of the store and Agent P tried not to feel jealous of the soon to be field agent, that would be unprofessional of him.
“And this one’s looking at you Ferb,” A man’s voice this time, seemingly piggybacking off the woman’s statement, her partner maybe? He had a heavy British accent, likely a recent immigrant.
“Why won’t anything look at me?!” A younger girl’s dramatic tone cut through the calm of the store, likely addressing her family, who were, in her defence, probably going to be playing host to two agents already. Three disappearing pets would jeopardize all security for the agency and the others had definitely noticed by now.
Agent P was so lost in thought he almost didn’t notice the set of five year olds approaching him. Keyword, almost. One was tall for his age, green haired, and quiet, the other was a very excited redhead with freckles spattered across his face. It was the redhead who spoke, “Ferb! This one’s looking at both of us at the same time.”
“Krkrkrkrk,” Agent P chittered in slight surprise and amusement, most of the time kids just called him weird looking and moved on to more conventional pets.
“Aww,” The boys’ mother said as she came around the corner with her partner and preteen daughter. She was a tall, elegant woman with her son’s red hair who didn’t seem particularly threatening. Seeing her partner Agent P would assume they were a mixed family, given that he only bore resemblance to Ferb.
“That thing? Are you kidding?” The loud girl scoffed. She was in the beginning of that gangly phase where her limbs were starting to outpace her body in growth, Agent P would be charitable and assume her sour expression and rudeness were from growing pains.
“Is there something I can do for you?” Carl asked, and Agent P was once again surprised by how much Carl could alter his voice. For a high school volunteer he far surpassed many proper agents in his facility with disguises and voice altering.
“Uh yes, we’d like that one please,” the man said pleasantly and Agent P internally winced. Sure hosts who didn’t know much about an animal’s habits were ideal but Agent P half wanted to shake the man for expressing interest in buying an animal without doing the bare minimum of research on the species or knowing what it was called.
Fortunately Carl seemed to have a similar thought process and expressed it aloud, making sure to specify Agent P’s species,“You’d like to adopt a platypus?”
Carl’s skepticism seemed to fly right over the man’s head as he responded blithely, “Is that what it is? Well, yes. May we have him please?”
Fortunately his daughter seemed to have a touch more sense, “Woah woah woah, what would you even name a platypus?” Ok, she’d missed the key points but at least she was questioning logistics.
“Bartholomew,” Both boys answered her in sync. Agent P died inside. He should have taken a wilderness post, there were four Agent B’s in Danville alone, he wanted to crawl into a lake and never leave.
“Krkrkr.”
—
“Lawrence, it says here that platypuses are venomous,” The woman said as she read through the adoption papers. Finally, a way out of being another Agent B.
“The spurs can probably be removed,” Her partner, Lawrence evidently, said calmly.
“That’s completely inhumane!” His daughter fired back and Agent P mentally retracted anything bad he’d ever thought about her.
“Maybe Ferb and I can make safety covers?” The redhaired boy who Agent P tentatively assumed was called Phineas suggested, “He’s really good at sewing.”
“I don’t see why not?” Their mother conceded, “But only if your father and I put them on him- hold on, what pronouns should I use for this platypus?”
Agent P fought back a wince. Right, the intersex marker that had been such a frustrating obstacle for reasons that no one had ever bothered explaining to him.
“He answers better to masculine names and pronouns,” Carl said, “Is his sex a problem?”
“Nope!” Phineas chirped, “It just makes him extra special, right Bartholomew?”
“I’m suddenly not sure how well that name works in context,” Ferb commented.
“Yeah, you’re right, it sounds weird now that I’ve said it. How about Perry?”
Ferb nodded and Perry gave a relieved chitter. He could make this work.
“I guess that settles it,” Lawrence said, “Welcome to the family, Perry”