AN: Here's "A Voice For The Silent", because why not make Perry talk?
Perry the Platypus was, as a general rule, rarely impressed with his nemesis's inventions. Correction, he was rarely visibly impressed. Deep down, he had a great respect for Heinz Doofenshmirtz and his skills, earned over their time as nemeses. That, however, did not necessarily translate to never questioning his nemesis's choice of what to point said skills towards.
Take the inator in front of him, for example. The Voice-inator. Created so that anything and everything that didn't normally have the ability to talk now could.
His nemesis had, naturally, immediately pointed it straight at him.
This also happened to the the moment he broke free of the usual trap, so he'd dodged the first blast, smacked Heinz around the face with his tail hard enough to send the second shooting off into the sky, and settled into the rhythm of the fight. Perry the Platypus quite enjoyed fighting. It made more sense to him than talking ever could, inator or not.
"You missed!" a cloud said, before dumping rain on a parade below. Even it was more of a menace to Danville at large than Heinz.
The third blast had hit Heinz himself, doing, apparently, nothing. After all, the man could already talk. And talk, and talk, and talk. Perry had grown familiar with the man's voice over the course of near-daily monologues and could now pick him out of a crowd or dark room by sound alone, with unerring accuracy. This typically did not end well for Heinz, as Perry had a preference for coming in foot-first, all the better to kick his nemesis in the face with.
"That's gotta hurt," a floor tile piped up, as Perry did exactly that.
Today, of course, Perry didn't need to navigate with his earholes, or his other more-specialised platypus senses, as he could see Heinz, clear as day, right in front of him. Leaping at the man, he knocked him to the floor, where they rolled along the floor in a familiar struggle for dominance. One they both enjoyed, when it came down to it. What better than to fight an enemy who demanded top performance for even a hope of success?
The floor tile, once again, had to add its own commentary. "You fight like a tapeworm!"
"You mean rolling around on the floor?" its neighbour responded, and the original tile laughed. Both of them went completely ignored by the fighters.
Over time, Perry and Heinz's fights had become less about Good versus Evil, and more about challenging the other on a personal level, each determined to prove his skills. That it still remained framed around the original eternal conflict was a matter of convenience.
"Call that a punch?" a third floor tile, whose edge had caught the blast, called.
Squirming free of Perry's grasp, Heinz ran back to his inator, putting it between his squishy fleshy body and his nemesis's hard fists. More green light erupted from the end, one after another, hitting such things as a chair, Heinz's toolbox, something way over in the direction of the suburbs that would inevitably and conveniently and improbably clean up all the chaos and shenanigans inevitably happening, a door, and finally Perry himself.
The collective objects gasped in anticipation.
Against all of Heinz's expectations for such a moment, Perry said absolutely nothing. Not a word. Instead, the platypus jumped up onto the inator, too close for Heinz's comfort or vital organs, and gave the man a considering look.
"What are you waiting for? You can win this, just hit the button already!" the chair yelled, clearly focusing on the real issue rather than Perry's choice to remain silent.
After all, all Perry had to do was hit the usual self-destruct button, placed prominently by his paw, and the fight would be over, they both knew. But he'd grown comfortable in his nemesisship, in the routine they'd found together, and Heinz was grinning. Another trap, then.
"You're not going to do it?" the chair complained.
The floor tiles, all three of them, scoffed. "He's a platypus, they don't do much."
Heinz, snarling, made a grab for his nemesis, telegraphed just enough that Perry easily jumped clear. His hand predictably landed on the supposed self-destruct button and ropes sprang out of the side, wrapping tight around him and pinning his arms to his sides.
Taking the opportunity to investigate the rest of the inator, Perry uncovered the actual self-destruct button, carefully labelled as "not a self-destruct button" as if such reverse psychology wasn't laughably easy to see through. Had he not reached the point where adrenaline made his paws shake, he would have acted as if he believed it. As it was, he slammed his fist on the button and jumped away, straight into Heinz's chest to knock the man to the ground.
After all, as much as they fought, he didn't want his nemesis getting too badly hurt in the inevitable explosion, it'd get in the way of the man's scheming. Without a scheme to thwart, he, Perry the Platypus, would have to go to the O.W.C.A. headquarters and finish off his paperwork, a thought that filled him with dread.
Heinz, rendered silent by the proximity of his nemesis, swallowed hard. A hush fell over the room as the dust settled and smoke dissipated, all the formerly talkative objects silent once more. What happened next was thus impossible to miss.
"Curse you, Heinz Doofenshmirtz."
Confident his nemesis had heard by the blush on the man's cheeks, Perry stood, walking out through the door of Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated with his tail held high. He'd always been physically capable of speaking, after all. His usual reticence came more from his preference for other means of communication, like a punch to the face. Hard to miss a punch to the face.
The next day, Perry showed up for his regular thwarting, with a surprise tucked in what counted as a pocket on a functionally naked platypus clad only a fedora. He'd basically declared his eternal loathing for his nemesis, why not cement it with a ring? Wasn't that the human way to do things?
Besides, Heinz had done it first.
Perry had seen enough soap operas and romantic comedies to understand the implications of a ringbox like the man had offered him, and he'd chosen to take it anyway. That it turned out to be a trap was expected. His inexplicable disappointment, on the other hand, was not.
The more sentimental side of his mind, the one that led him to accept any request his nemesis made that didn't directly contradict his orders, the one that led him to devote everything he had to his family in the suburbs, had suggested a second, more pressing, reason to present Heinz with the ring as soon as he could. He knew his nemesis well, and particularly Heinz's habit of doubting every expression of affection, nemesis or otherwise. A ring would surely be a tangible enough reminder for Heinz to believe, he'd reasoned.
Heinz, on his part, had indeed wondered whether Perry's declaration of hatred had actually happened or if it had merely been wishful thinking. Why would Perry the Platypus loathe him like that? Even if the platypus had agreed to give him another chance way back when, that didn't mean he still felt the same way now.
And his scheme, the Voice-inator, had only been to hear how Perry truly felt about him, without any room for misinterpretation. Straight from the platypus's mouth, so to speak. Did Perry hate him as a nemesis, or was Heinz just a minor irritation his nemesis had to put up with? To most people he was the latter, if not pitied, a fact of which he was agonisingly aware.
The last thing Heinz, therefore, expected, was for Perry to easily dodge the usual trap and sink to one knee in front of him, holding up a ringbox. With ring.
Reacting on autopilot, Heinz pulled the ring free, turning it over in his fingers. A simple gold ring, engraved with the same words Perry had murmured just a day earlier, just the right size to fit on, and he checked, the second-last finger on his left hand. A clear and unambiguous symbol. Heinz stared at it, resting neatly around his finger, speechless.
Then, as if a switch had flipped inside his mind, he reached into a pocket of his lab coat, pulling out a ringbox of his own. The same one he'd offered Perry once before.
This time, however, when Perry opened it, it actually did contain a ring. A thin band of gold, perfectly sized to fit around a platypus's finger. Heinz had clearly made, or bought, or otherwise acquired, it specifically for his nemesis.
Tears in his eyes, Perry slid the ring onto his own finger. He hadn't expected this, for Heinz to have been thinking of him the same way, wanting to commit to their nemesisship.
"So, Perry the Platypus," Heinz said, voice thick with an emotion he couldn't articulate. "How would you like to, ah, join me for a movie? There's a theatre nearby showing the latest, what was it, Space Adventure? Or I have, well, Vanessa's here for the weekend so she brought all her movies over, I think she was going to invite some friends-"
Perry, already digging through the pile of dvd cases on a nearby table, held one up with an inquisitive eyebrow raise. A romcom Heinz almost tried to pass off as Vanessa's, before catching himself. For one thing, Perry knew Vanessa, he'd never believe it.
For another... "Is that what sort of movie you like?" Heinz had to ask, eyes flicking between the cover of 51st Date and Perry's earnest face, for once not asking himself why the fifty-first date and not the first, or even the fiftieth. "I never would have guessed, you're so stoic and, you know, you don't emote much, or cry or anything. I'm not saying you can't but-"
With a fond sigh, Perry took his nemesis's hand in his other paw and led him across the room while the man rambled, to a couch conveniently set up by the nearest dvd player. Then, with the ease and speed of someone who's had to take every chance he gets to watch his own media without being caught, he got the movie up and running, climbing up beside Heinz as the intro played. Proximity came easily to him these days. Besides, Heinz gave the best scritches.
When Vanessa walked in the door that evening to find her father and her... she'd come to think of Perry as a stepfather, curled up together on the couch, rings on their fingers, she smiled. "Congrats on the engagement, dads," she said, lip quirking at the corner in amusement. It was about time they realised. "When's the wedding?"
Broken from their reverie, both Heinz and Perry blinked, glancing at each other in mutual confusion. "Wedding?" Heinz mumbled, echoing Perry's thoughts on the matter. "But..."
"The rings?" Vanessa prompted, trying not to roll her eyes. After all, they were her dads.
"Oh, this?" Heinz said, glancing down at the band of gold on his finger, rubbing it with his thumb. "No, Perry the Platypus was just... it's a nemesis thing."
Tucked comfortably into Heinz's side, Perry nodded his agreement.
"A nemesis thing," Vanessa repeated flatly. From her point of view, it hadn't been just a nemesis thing for a very long time. Perry was part of her family now, bringing them all together, whether he knew it or not. A second father to keep her first one in check, when they weren't working together to embarrass her in front of her friends. "So, Perry, you're saying you've never considered kissing my dad. Is that right?"
Perry blinked, processing her words, then glanced up at his nemesis. Now that he thought about it...
Before anything further could happen, Vanessa turned and walked away. "I'll leave you two lovebirds to it," she called from the doorway. "Try not to stay up too late, Perry does have a home to go to!"
"You do?" Heinz asked his nemesis, right before Perry surged up to kiss him.
That evening, Perry the Platypus left Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated in a state of dazed wonder, his bill tingling with echoes of Heinz's lips. He'd never imagined kissing to feel like that.
Nor had he imagined his nemesis could feel that way, let alone himself.
Perry still slammed Heinz into a door the next day. After all, they were nemeses, it was his job to thwart the man.
Against all logic, the door in question still retained a lingering trace of the Voice-inator's effect, springing to life, or, at least, to voice, for one last comment. "He a-doors you!"
AN: I had to.
