A/N – I hope everyone has seen the episode, "Phineas and Ferb and the Temple of Juatchadoon." It was great fun, and – as it turns out – quite inspiring. Think of this as a "spin-off" of "Juatchadoon" and envision the characters as we would see them in the series. Povenmire & Marsh own everything related to Phineas & Ferb, including their alter-egos.

Rhode Island Fletcher and the Pizzazium Skull – Chapter One

The dashing, green-haired chap in the leather jacket and well-worn fedora roamed the boulevards of Paris. The famed adventurer Rhode Island Fletcher had come halfway around the world in response to the mysterious letter now carefully preserved in his pocket.

Mr. Fletcher – Your immediate presence is required in Paris. The fate of a nation hangs in the balance. Meet me at the Café Ferbouche. Come alone.

Agent V

DSP

That was the extent of the message. He did not know who Agent V might be, or what the letters DSP represented, and 'come alone' was a demand he would usually decline, but something about the letter intrigued him. Perhaps it was the delicate handwriting, or the faint perfume of roses that scented the paper. Call it a weakness, but Rhode Island Fletcher never could refuse a lady in need of his help.

At the foot of the letter, he had detected a postscript in invisible ink. Decoding the hidden message, he presumed that this was the password that would identify his quarry. Now, as he entered the café, he looked around at the patrons. They were an odd and unsavory assortment, as he would have expected in such a shady establishment. The red-haired woman behind the counter looked familiar to him. Upon reflection, he thought he recognized her as some faded, long-forgotten cabaret singer – Lindette, or something? She beckoned to him, and offered, as he drew near, "Cocoa, cherie?"

"I'd prefer a spot of tea," he replied.

"Non, non," she wagged a finger at him, "I believe you want zee cocoa." She drew a frothing cup for him and sprinkled it liberally with marshmallows. "It is – 'ow you say – on zee house."

"Merci, madame," he accepted the cup. The woman seemed to know why he was there, and he ventured, "The platypus is the only mammal to lay eggs."

"You English are so amusing," she shook her head with an indulgent smile as she turned away from him.

Well, she's not the one, he mused, carrying his cocoa to an empty table. He skimmed off the mound of excess marshmallows and drew from his jacket an object that resembled a small thermometer. Dipping it into his cup, he gave it a swirl, and waited a few seconds for the readings to appear. Nothing unexpected in his drink; that was a good sign. Thus reassured, Rhode Island Fletcher sipped at the warm beverage. No one else in the café approached him, or regarded him with anything other than casual interest. Perhaps he had the wrong place. Or perhaps he had been drawn into some elaborate ruse. Stirring his cocoa with an ordinary spoon this time, he was considering his options, when his attention was drawn by the sound of the café door opening.

At that moment, a freak cyclone swept directly toward him. It cast a pink tint upon the atmosphere in the room, and brought with it every flower petal in the city. Carried in on the balmy wind was a young woman of stunning beauty. Rhode Island Fletcher could not avert his gaze from her. Her indigo eyes, her coffee-colored hair, her creamy skin and rosebud lips were all like nothing he had ever seen before. Her black clothing appeared to be some variant on a military uniform, and was tailored to her hourglass figure. She walked to the counter and accepted a mug of cocoa from the red-headed woman and, to his surprise, carried it directly to his table. Sitting down in the chair opposite him, she looked him over with an appreciative smile, then reached out with her spoon to scoop up the discarded marshmallows from his saucer and add them to her own cup.

Rhode Island Fletcher found himself more speechless than usual. Fortunately, she was willing to start the conversation.

"The platypus is the only mammal that lays eggs." Her sultry voice was tinged with the trace of some Germanic accent.

He replied in a tone more husky than usual. "And it is one of only five extant species of monotreme."

Releasing a sigh, she said, "I am Agent V, of the Drusselsteinian Secret Police. My country is in need of your assistance, Mr. Fletcher."

He nodded in acknowledgement of this and said, "What is it you want? Aside from my marshmallows." With a slyly raised eyebrow, he regarded the sweets piled into her cocoa.

"The famed Pizzazium Skull of Drusselstein has been on loan to the Museum of Mystical Antiquities, here in Paris. Four days ago, it was stolen. Word of its disappearance has been kept quiet so far, but if the news reaches my country, it could lead to war."

"Fair enough. But, why bring me here? And why alone? You must be aware that I usually work with my partner."

Agent V gave a soft snort as she said, "Ohio Flynn talks too much. I prefer the strong, silent type." The look she gave him sent a little jolt of electricity straight to his heart. "I summoned you here, Mr. Fletcher, because I believe I know where the skull is hidden, and retrieving it will be a two-person job. I require an accomplice." Her choice of word prompted a suspicious glint in his eye, but she blushed a bit as she said, "Have I misspoken? English is such a confusing language. I meant… an assistant."

Assistant, accomplice, or willing dupe, it was all one to him. Rhode Island Fletcher was hers to command. He downed the last of his cocoa before he gave her a slight nod. "Where do we start?"

To Be Continued…

A/N – I came back and changed the spelling of Drusselstein to what we learned in "The Doonkelberry Imperative."