I do not own Phineas and Ferb.

Clue Hunting

"Isabella," Baljeet whispered, his voice anxious. "It is almost time for us to be home!"

Isabella cast a glance at the sky and was surprised to find that her friend was right. The sun was setting, casting an orangey-red glow across Danville. They had been out since late afternoon, scouring their hometown for any clue that would lead them to Phineas and Ferb.

"Well, we're not going home until we find something," Isabella said determinedly. The three were standing on the edge of the curb, trying to think of where to look next.

"We've searched every nook and cranny of Danville," Buford cried. "And we've come up with nada. Zilch."

Isabella tapped a finger against her chin, brow furrowed in thought. "Then we need to think logically. Carl said that Phineas and Ferb are no longer on Earth. They couldn't have just disappeared into thin air."

"It must have happened during their mission," Baljeet added. "And that means Perry was not with them when it happened."

"Right," Isabella agreed. "Perry would never let anything happen to Phineas and Ferb on his watch. And Phineas and Ferb would never go down without a fight. It took them by surprise."

"And they must have disappeared between Doof's place and wherever they were headed," Buford said, glancing at the tall purple building in the distance. "'Cause the first place Perry would've checked when he noticed that they were missing would be Doof's place."

"So no clues were found over there," Isabella concluded. "Does anyone know what Heinz's scheme was for the day?"

They fell into silence, no one having an answer.

"We could ask Carl," Buford suggested after a while.

"But he might not give us the answer. Worse, for all we know, Major Monogram knows we're out here searching for clues and has sent someone to get us." Isabella frowned.

"We can't just stand around doing nothing!" Buford snapped.

"We're thinking!"

"Oh, and how much good is that doing us?"

Baljeet let out a sigh as his two friends began to bicker. He walked away from their fight and headed for the nearest newsstand. When he approached the red metal container, a bold black headline greeted him.

Mayor Roger Doofenshmirtz saves kitten from fire on Pine Hollow. Story on page 3.

"Hmm," Baljeet mused, rubbing his chin and squinting at the large black-and-white picture of the mayor holding up a fluffy kitten with a wide smile on his face. "I wonder...hey, guys!"

His shout cut through Buford and Isabella's fight, directing their attention towards him. "What?" Buford demanded. "We're trying to have a fight here!"

"And it is not very productive," Baljeet said with a roll of his eyes. "Come over here."

They complied and Baljeet pointed at the newspaper. "Dr. Doofenshmirtz is not very fond of his brother, is he?"

"From what Phineas and Ferb told me, quite a few of his plots involve throwing his brother out of power and putting himself in his place. Heinz has a twisted view of democracy," Isabella said.

"Perhaps today's plot was focussed on Mayor Roger," Baljeet speculated. "While Perry went ahead to stop Dr. Doofenshmirtz, Phineas and Ferb lagged behind for some reason and that is when they got snatched or abducted by aliens or whatever."

"It's the only plan we got," Buford decided.

"Actually, I think Baljeet has it right on the nose!" Isabella beamed. "I heard an explosion from the direction of City Hall when I was coming back to base with Pinky, but I didn't think much of it until now."

"So if there are any clues, they will lie between Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated and City Hall," Baljeet concluded.

"Exactly! Come on, boys!" Isabella took off down the sidewalk, her white sneakers kicking up loose cement as she went. Buford and Baljeet were quick to follow after the Mexican-Jewish girl, winding through the dimly-lit streets and trying to beat the setting sun. With no light, it would be extremely difficult to find anything.

"Okay," Isabella panted as they reached an intersection midway between the two buildings. "I'll take Helena Lane, Buford can take Grecian Avenue and Baljeet, you go down Abernathy Road. We'll all meet back here in one hour."

"But that is past our curfew!" Baljeet protested.

"I'm aware," Isabella said curtly. "If one of us finds something, um, make the sound of an owl."

"Not all of us here have senior-level Bird Calling patches," Buford said flatly.

Isabella's response was to push Buford in his designated direction and then sprint down Helena Lane. Baljeet shook his head and quickly jogged down Abernathy Road. "Oh, this would be much easier if I knew what I was looking for," he muttered to himself.

The Indian teen came across a garbage can resting on the curb. Baljeet removed the lid and recoiled at the smell, which was a mix of rotten eggs and wet socks. "Ew ew ew ew ew ew!" he squeaked, holding his breath and gingerly rummaging through the scraps of food. He found a few pieces of crumpled paper and scanned them.

"Nothing but old receipts and grocery lists," he grumbled, slamming the lid back on the silver can. "I went through that for nothing."

"Hey, punk! What are you doing rummaging through my garbage?"

It hit Baljeet in that instant that what he was doing was not exactly smiled upon by most people. With a yelp of fright Baljeet turned on his heel (making sure to keep his face hidden from the person screaming at him from the second-story window of the building behind him) and raced off.

"Get back here! HEY!"

Terrified, Baljeet scrambled around the corner and dove into the nearest alley. He pressed against the grimy stone wall and panted heavily, hoping that the man had not decided to come after him.

"Hey, Phil! You see a kid running around here?"

Heart in his throat, Baljeet did not bother to wait for the response of whoever the man was speaking to. He hurried to the end of the alley and squeezed himself underneath the blue dumpster, one hand clamped tightly over his nose.

A few seconds later, he could hear footsteps coming in his direction. Baljeet closed his eyes and waited tensely.

One second passed. Two seconds passed. Three seconds passed.

He did not move for a whole minute. After that rather agonizing minute, the man finally decided that the kid he was looking for was not in the alley (how incorrect he was) and left. Baljeet waited a little while longer before letting out a sigh of relief.

"That was close," he whispered. "No more digging in garbage cans." His hand landed in a puddle of green slime and he gagged. "Also, no more hiding under dumpsters."

The Indian boy started to wiggle himself out. A flash of red caught his eye and he glanced to his left. There, wedged between the wheel and the bottom of the container, was Phineas' red and white sneaker.

Eyes wide, Baljeet slowly crawled back out into the alley, ignoring the fact that he was covered in the strange green slime created from the multiple juices leaking out of the dumpster. He grabbed Phineas' sneaker and pulled, tearing a lace in the process.

"A clue," Baljeet breathed. "Hoot hoot! Hoot hoot! Hoot hoot!"

The call echoed off the walls of the alley and carried through the street. It took a few tries, but Isabella and Buford came running down the alley a few minutes later. Isabella's eyes instantly lit up upon seeing the worn-out sneaker in Baljeet's hands. "You found something!"

"It's about time," Buford grumbled. "We've been running all over Danville for hours."

"Phineas must have kicked his sneaker off for someone to find!" Baljeet said, examining the laces. "These laces are too tight for the sneaker to fall off by accident."

"But it doesn't tell us who took Dinner Bell and Beanpole McGee," Buford said with a frown. "So it doesn't really help us at all."

"On the contrary," Isabella retorted. "We know that Phineas and Ferb were snatched in this very spot."

Baljeet nodded, quickly scanning the area in case he had missed something else. A silver sparkle shone by the stone wall opposite the dumpster and he started towards it. He bent down and picked up the object, a specially made screw.

"Why are you picking that up?" Buford asked. "It's just a screw."

"You never know, Buford," Baljeet lectured, pocketing it. "In situations like this, every little thing counts."

"Alright guys, we're off to a good start," Isabella said confidently. "Maybe there's some way we can scan this screw to see if it has any importance-check for DNA or something like that."

"We might have to go to O.W.C.A for such a machine," Baljeet voiced. "I am sure they have some sort of scanner that can tell us where this came from."

"Then that's the plan-tomorrow, after our missions we meet in the Flynn-Fletcher backyard and head to base," Isabella declared.

"Isn't that risky?" Buford asked. "I mean, we're trying to keep from letting people know that we're investigating this when it was made clear that we're not supposed to get involved."

"We'll have to think of some excuse if someone catches us," Isabella said simply.

"Why not tell Perry?" Baljeet frowned. "I am sure he would want to know about this."

"We don't really know if this screw means anything yet," Isabella pointed out. "I don't want to get his hopes up in case it's nothing-I don't even want to get my hopes up."

Baljeet nodded, slipping the screw in his pocket. "Okay. But I do not know how long we can keep this between us. What time is it, anyway?"

Isabella checked her watch. She winced. "We are officially forty-five minutes past our curfew."

"Oh, shoot!" Buford scowled and broke into a run, his friends keeping pace with him. "Ma is gonna kill me!"

"I hear that," Isabella said glumly, her raven hair flying over her shoulders as she ran. "What's our cover story?"

"We were out with Phineas and Ferb and lost track of time?" Baljeet suggested.

"But Phineas and Ferb ain't here!" Buford exclaimed, baffled.

"True, but we have to find a way of keeping Mr. and Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher worried," Isabella said firmly. "They've been at some antiques convention for the past while. They were supposed to arrive home sometime today, so chances are any phone calls from our worried parents were taken by Candace. I'll deal with her."

"Are you going to tell her what's going on?" Buford asked.

"I might have to. She can keep Perry off our backs and also keep her parents from freaking out. She can make up a cover story."

"This is getting much too secretive for my liking," Baljeet voiced, panting slightly from the amount of running they were doing.

Buford rolled his eyes. "You blockhead, what did you think secret agent meant when you signed up?"

Certainly, Baljeet thought as his feet pounded against the concrete, not going on a wild hunt for our best friends who have been kidnapped by a mysterious being.