At the track and field, Danger Mouse kept a sharp and beady eye on the Colonel as he stood a few meters away from him, pistol in hand, raising it high into the clear air.
"On your marks" he began, tightening his hold on the trigger of the pistol.
DM placed one leg forward, another to the back.
He leaned forward; his one free eye focused and trailed across the scope of the circular track spread out before him.
"Go" the Colonel uttered.
The pistol went off. And so did DM. Off like a shot.
Dashing at impeccably swift speed across the track, DM achieved several laps in mere minutes, impressing a passionate and swarming crowd of deer leaders (that's deers holding pom-poms), as they encouraged every sprint made across the track and field.
In his series of sprints, DM tallied up the number of times he had completed the run in his head, projecting a specific number.
With each successive run around the perimeter, that targeted number came ever so closer to being reached
And then he stopped dead in his tracks. Dead on the track.
"DM? Why the long pause lad?" asked the Colonel.
"Colonel, can I ask you something?"
"Ask away DM"
"Do I have everything figured out? Truly?"
"You've always paid attention to the details DM"
"I feel like I'm missing some. I spoke to a 'friend' earlier today, she said she'd been speaking to someone that reminded her so much of me...I told her he'd probably be a good fit for her, but I can't shake the feeling that if she's looking for more of me in people she socialises with, why can't she settle for just me?"
"This friend of yours...how would you describe her?" the Colonel asked, already knowing the answer but opting to humour DM, almost daring him to come clean, for they both knew exactly who they were talking about.
DM obliged.
"Incredibly selfish, spoiled, talented but far too entitled, doesn't appreciate the legal hoops we leap through to try and keep her out of trouble, always doubles down on her mischief making, ought to act her proper age, but I'm in no position to tell her that when I scarcely act it myself"
"I'm certain it'll Dawn on you" assured the Colonel.
DM appreciated the joke, even if he'd never been comfortable with his close relations to Dawn being sussed out a long time ago by almost everyone at the agency.
The world's greatest secret agent was never that good at concealing matters related to his own heart.
At the nearby mall, inside one of many luxurious clothing stores, Mr. Snuggles checked his watch as yet another hour of indecision came to a close and a fresh one was just about due to start.
Dawn just could not pick out anything she felt could stand out.
She had changed her look and age several times over in a bid to compliment everything she was trying on, and yet nothing seemed to appease her.
She threw back the curtain of the changing room, a towel wrapped around her body, holding a pair of high heels in her hand, and tossed them at the clothing store manager.
"Nobody tell Prince Charming to pick these for Cinderella" she bellowed, before heading back towards Snuggles, seated on the floor, and collapsed exhausted into his warm felt lap.
"Talk to me, tell me all of it fits just fine and it's only me that doesn't suit it" she said.
"It's not just you, it's him as well" Snuggles replied, his paw gently stroking the soft, smooth black hair of his gothic princess.
"Which one?" Dawn joked, a wry smile doing it's utmost to conceal her sorrows.
"You want my advise? Go easy on this date. As far as he's concerned, he doesn't know what he's heading towards. Whatever he's searching for, he's already found it in you, all you have to do is turn up and that'll be enough"
"The mouse was right, I want to be the belle of the ball, the only way I can pull that off is if I outbid everyone at the auction, and truly establish myself at the table as someone to do business with, not just be tolerated as a spoiled little spectator who only gets into these places based on the privileges of my old man"
"You'll have an advantage over a lot of those rogues Princess, you'll have someone on their arm. All those other types have never had an inkling of a crush, usually they all get crushed. I can provide the crushing, just say the word" Snuggles advised.
Dawn's warm smile filled him with promise, he could tell when she wasn't putting it on for show anymore, that she was now genuine, encouraged, and in good spirit.
"Care to try again?" Snuggles asked, handing her a jet black one piece evening dress studded with diamond shards.
"That's what they like to see in me, that I still care to try" Dawn responded, taking the dress out of Snuggles' hand, tickling his belly button, and retreating back to the changing room.
Squawkencluck kicked the vacuum cleaner for a third time, frustrated that it was on the fritz again.
A couple of knocks, a rhythm of four, at the door seemed to calm her nerves.
"Erm, Professor...is your room decent?" came a squeaky yet sincere voice.
"I'm the only decent being in this maelstrom of a mailbox...did you hear the commotion last night?" Squawkencluck rambled as Penfold crept through the door.
"Every bit of it" Penfold replied.
Squawk folded her arms and again gave her vacuum cleaner a firm boot up the backside.
"Be a dear and sort that out" she mumbled, the whole of the sentence running together into an incoherent mutter.
"Pardon?" said Penfold.
"Sort it out" she yelled. Penfold shivered.
Penfold bent down nervously and tinkered with the back of the machine, all while Squawk observed him, beginning to feel bad for yelling at him when his very presence in her room had soothed her tremendously.
"Don't mind me there Penny, just letting the night intrude on the day" she said apologetically.
"No problem Professor, did you at least get any work done?" Penfold asked.
Squawk gave him a coy look.
"You think that's what I do? You think I stay up all night gluing back together everything that turns to confetti when you and your meddling mouse lift your little fingers and dance all over them?"
"Steady on Prof" Penfold said. Squawk bit her tongue, again kicking herself for losing it.
"I'm never in the right place with you two am I? Sorry, I just wish people would see me as more than a workhorse..."
"Well you're not even a horse" Penfold replied
"Enough with the jokes, your timing is horrible, and If you must know, I spent all night trying to meditatively time travel" Squawk explained.
"Is that possible?" Penfold asked
"In a dream-state everything is" Squawk continued, "It was an odd one too...perhaps this happened, perhaps it didn't, I was a young chick sitting with my parents at a dinner table, being served a hot dish...I was given tiny little seeds to peck on while the grown-ups ate the meal. My dad suddenly stopped, looked at the meal, and called for the waiter to take it back. He later told my mum that he'd rather have taken the seeds I was having, and then he asked me to share mine with his"
"Did this actually happen?" Penfold asked.
"Oh I was a just a child back then, and you know how memories tend to become more loose and romantic from that era when you get older...I could be misremembering, but everything felt so clear, and it was almost as if that dream was telling me something..."
"Professor...you mention 'seeds', I...I can't seem to get that word out of my head"
"Really? Now that is fascinating...could be a sign of dream meshing" Squawk speculated. Penfold, as usual, was perplexed.
"What's dream meshing?" said Penfold
"There are several explanations for it; one has to do with latent telepathy in an unconscious state"
"Yikes, does that mean all the spoons in the kitchen will bend when I pick them up?" Penfold asked in alarm. Squawk giggled.
"No, no silly, you're probably not that strong telepathically, but having a close mutual connection to someone and having a shared experience with them can lead to strong ties to their psyches."
"But when did we have any shared experiences? I was only just now about to ask you out on one"
"Well there was that time you, me and DM had to enter a virtual reality prison to try and repair the government's firewalls from a virus installed by...wait, what did you say?" Squawk said, trailing off of her speculation to focus on what Penfold had said.
"Ask you out" Penfold continued, "DM is going undercover to infiltrate that auction for the Rugby diamond and I was thinking he'd need back-up...besides, I...could do with the company" Penfold proposed.
He didn't want to admit it to Squawk, just as he did not want to admit it to the Colonel, but the person he was more concerned with over the issue of mental health was himself, particularly due to the persistence of the trigger word 'seed'. He figured if Squawk were to hold his hand, he could make it through the mission without driving Danger Mouse to distraction.
"Is this business or pleasure? You know how badly I need a break from doing the dirty work for you two" said Squawk
"Oh it won't be like that Professor, it's just...you know how the chief gets, you know his moods, we can't risk him exposing himself to his date or to the auctioneers, especially his date. It'll break him"
"It's her isn't it?" Squawk asked. Penfold nodded. Squawk understood.
"I suppose I should at least try...ok Penfold, since it's the new year and I have to make some kind of fancy resolution, I'll resolve to help you sort this mess out...just, next time you ask me out, go about it the way any other guy would...and settle on an ordinary set of circumstances. I'll still say yes if you're not so awkward about it" Squawk said. Penfold grinned.
"Thanks heaps Professor, I'll let the chief know you're coming...just, um, try not to read too much into his behaviour when he acts a bit erratic around his date, it's all an act"
"The one thing DM isn't is a class act, so I won't make any promises" said Squawk.
At her request, Penfold waited outside of the Professor's quarters for about thirty minutes, checking his watch every five. He was so frustrated with how long it normally takes her to freshen up that he neglected to notice the watch he had was a toy one he picked up from a pick'n'grab machine at the carnival.
The door opened just as he leaned on it, sending him careering into the room and sprawled in front of Squawkencluck.
Penfold rubbed his eyes as the Professor extended her hand and offered to pick him up. He grabbed her hand and straightened himself up.
He stood there transfixed at the way she looked. Her hair down, her glasses off, wearing a silk black night dress and stiletto high heels (no, not shoes shaped like the head of Greenback's henchman Stiletto), in her left hand was a scarlet purse with a DM logo attached to it.
"You look quite the chick" said Penfold.
The Professor blushed and tugged at his cheek.
"You're a darling Penfold, come on, we'd better catch up with DM, let him know we're on our way"
"Chief, where are you?" Penfold asked as he got in touch with his partner.
"Standing right outside the Humble Grape. I'm present, and as always, correct" he said.
"Why are your ears pinned back?" Penfold said, noticing DM had twisted and knotted them together and tied them to the back of his head to form a custom fleshly 'ponytail'.
"So as not to look conspicuous" DM revealed, "The ears are noted to be amongst my most recognisable aspects"
"And your eyepatch isn't?" said Penfold.
"Do you know just how many Giraffes I've seen walk into this place with an eye patch? They're an iconic feature of the underworld scene, it's not likely going to trigger any suspicions"
"All's fair then I guess, but you didn't take the Mark IV did you? If she or any of the other auctioneers see it, they'll be able to tell it's you on the spot"
"No worries, I took the bus, all that's required now is to await her arrival, I'm sure she wouldn't want to attract too much attention either..."
The roar of ferocious rocket fire suddenly interrupted him as Dawn's jet pack ride made a perfect ten touchdown on the streets below to alarmed and amazed expressions from every civilian in the street surrounding him.
"Ok, so much for being casual" DM said.
"Is she age appropriate Chief?" Penfold asked, his gambit prevalent on whatever form Dawn was taking.
Above all else, he at best wanted DM's reputation to be squeaky clean even if he were to be compromised.
"What sort of question is that to ask Penfold? Of course she is, and what a strut she has too"
Penfold let out an apprehensive giggle, brought on more by nerves than a desire to acknowledge DM's compliments to the diamond studded diva who stood before him.
Dawn's growth spurt was indeed noticeable, as was her deeply purple lip gloss and bedazzling well-groomed eyelashes.
"Dashing Dan O'Malley I presume?" Dawn spoke with eloquence.
DM trembled ever so slightly, before composing himself and reached out to Dawn's hand to gently imprint a tender kiss on it.
"The day is most assuredly hours Daisy"
"Please, call me Dawn" she said.
DM froze like a statue, his one free eye twitching as anxiety took hold.
He should have seen it coming, he should have recognised her despite the difference in age and size.
He made a mental note to murder Penfold upon first sight for setting him up in this fashion.
Small drips of sweat crept down Penfold's neck. He could tangibly feel his friend's simmering rage resonate off the screen of the communications device.
Dawn snugly wrapped her hands around his arm and led him towards the entrance of the Humble Grape.
"Ok Chief, butter her up until we get here, and for gosh sakes, don't make yourself look like Clear and Present Danger" Penfold replied.
DM simply nodded, unable to speak. Almost terrified to.
"Professor, enough with the powder, we need to go take a powder" said Penfold, knocking on the door.
"Keep your hair on" the Professor snapped back.
"You've been around my head long enough to know I'm no hair-raiser" Penfold replied.