Chapter 2

1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington, D.C.
September 17, 2049

During periods of high threat levels, the front door of the White House is almost never used by the President of the United States. It's far too public and a safety issue. At these times, when the President arrives or departs, he or she takes one of at least four underground tunnels at random―presumably, more are classified―emerging at secret locations across the capitol. The fact that travel by teleportation is entirely restricted on the premises, even to top officials and the President herself, attests to the many measures that have been taken to make the "great white sepulcher of ambitions," as Harry Truman dubbed it, an impregnable fortress in its own right.

PJ had access to an old pedestrian passage connecting the White House and the Old Executive Office Building next door. The undecorated concrete walls never failed to invite a sense of overwhelming isolation in the folks who traipsed past them, estranging yet connecting one of the most secure places on earth with the wild and scary world.

The passage ended at an elevator that took PJ straight to the second floor of the White House. It slid open to a hallway that couldn't have looked more different than the cold cement one he had just emerged from. Up here, every hallway was like a museum, holding priceless works of art and beautiful furnishings. It was getting late, and PJ still hadn't eaten since leaving the diner, so he crept in the direction of the kitchen for a snack. He was just rounding the corner to the entrance when―

"BOO!"

PJ jumped a foot in the air and landed in an action pose, arms up, ready for a fight. He had to force his reflexes to relax again once he recognized the voice. Marie giggled from somewhere behind him and he felt her arms wrap around his teal body and pick him up, squeezing him tightly.

"PJ! You're home!" she squealed excitedly.

He made an act of struggling to free himself, then gave up. Marie was the only person he allowed hugs from. "Marie, don't you know your bodyguard is the last person you should be sneaking up on?"

"I knew you wouldn't hurt me," she teased, gently putting him back down.

"Just be more careful next time," he said, turning around to face her. Her orange blouse was covered in flour. "What have you been up to?" he inquired, indicating the white blotches.

"I'm cooking dinner! Come look!" She pushed on the free-swinging door to the kitchen and held it for him. "Mom said we're going to eat as a family for once, tonight, and Cathy is helping, see?"

Cathy, the President's personal cook, waved at PJ. "Good to see you again, PJ," she said. "How's your work with the Conspirium going?"

"The details are classified, as always, Little Miss Nosey. But I can at least say, things went well today."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to―"

"It's okay," PJ said, putting up a hand for a gesture of silence. Cathy was always so timid and afraid of offending anyone, she'd apologize for anything that didn't seem to make someone incredibly happy. "I was joking. You didn't do anything wrong." Turning to Marie, he asked, "What do you mean by, 'eating as a family?'"

"Well, you know, like a normal family, gathered around the table for dinner."

"It's past nine o'clock. Kind of late for family dinner."

"Yeah, Mom's working late again, as usual. But she's insisting we do this." She bent down and cupped a hand to whisper in his ear. "All she really wants is to make sure I learn how to cook."

"Ah." PJ inhaled deeply. "Well, it does smell good. What are you making?"

"Secret," Marie grinned devilishly.

PJ rolled his eyes. "Okay. Well, I'm just gonna grab something and head off―"

"What? No, you are not! You'll ruin your appetite!"

PJ gave Marie an incredulous look. "You don't mean―?"

"Of course I do! You're part of the family now, too! That means you come eat with the rest of us at family dinner. Now, go wash your hands, PJ! Go! Go!" She started hustling him out of the kitchen. There was nothing PJ could do to fight it. Just like that, he was back in the hallway again. He tested the door just because, and found that Marie was bracing it.

"March!" she ordered, using a playful tone that still managed to sound similar to the authoritative one her mother regularly used with her. "And don't forget to wash your hands!"

He held up his hands in compliance for her to see through the glass window, then turned and made his way down the hall. He briefly considered not washing them just to irk her, yet soon enough, he found himself doing it anyways. From there, he wandered to the dining room. He heard voices echoing his way as he approached, and upon entering he found Phineas talking on the video phone at the table.

"That's what I told them. For once, it was a good thing we got a down payment on the elephant." Phineas turned to see who had come in. "Hey PJ!" he greeted with a grin. "Come say hi to Ferb!"

PJ stood on the chair next to Phineas and leaned into view. "S'up?" Ferb was living with his wife in Danville, and their hands were full running Summertime Industries without Phineas.

"Ferb and I were just discussing a business issue," Phineas stated. "You see, our company has been dealing with a little bit of courtroom drama for the past week. A woman is suing because our hyperpermiable hydrofoam dinosaurs―you know those toys that are foamy dinosaurs, and you put them in water and they grow from an egg to, say, the size of a loaf of bread? Well, ours grow to life size. You know, as big as real dinosaurs. Anyways, her toddler left his outside one day, and it rained all night, and it knocked over their powerline as it expanded."

"Was anybody hurt?"

"Fortunately, no, she's just suing for damages."

"Sounds―fun," PJ drawled.

"We do have the legal advantage that the recommended age label, clearly printed on the toy, was above her kid's age, so that should give us some leeway. Sadly, though, we will probably still end up having to scrap the toy from our inventory. The brachiosaurs are kind of dangerous." The redhead's ever-present smile faded for a moment. Then, it was back. "I bet that's the first time anyone has ever said that a brachiosaurus is more dangerous than a tyrannosaurus!"

Phineas saw movement on Ferb's end. "Oh, it looks like Ferb has to go. Bye, Ferb! We'll talk about it more tomorrow. Good night!" With that, the digital feed collapsed to a dot and vanished. Phineas swiped his tablet, an electronic device similar enough in size and shape to its predecessors of the mid-electronics boom of the '10s, except in that it was far more powerful, entirely clear like glass, and it transformed to a watch and automatically attached itself back to his wrist at his touch.

"So anyways, I saw you had a busy day today, PJ." He turned to give the platypus his full attention. "I presume that the state-of-the-matter transfer device worked out for you?"

"Yes, yes it did." PJ nodded. "We caught the Conspirium completely off guard with it."

"Good," Phineas said. "You know, Ferb and I first invented that machine to help us taste more exotic smoothie flavors as kids. It did accidentally hit Candace, though, but she turned out okay. We never could have guessed back then that we'd end up weaponizing it someday." The inventor paused to sigh. "We never guessed we'd end up weaponizing a lot of things."

PJ tried to reassure him. "It's thanks to your inventions that we're this close to catching Suzy and the Conspirium."

"I know. I just hope that we can go back to using them for fun instead of weapons, someday."

PJ waited a silent moment before he opened his mouth once more. "As soon as we catch Suzy Johnson, you will. Which reminds me, do you have any leads with her?"

"No device I have seems to be able to track her," he admitted. "The photo-transporter has turned up nothing. I even modified the cuteness-tracker to see if that could find anything, to no avail. I guess she's cute on the outside, but rotten on the inside."

None of these invention names made a lick of sense to PJ, so he simply took his word for it.

"Maybe she's got a cloaking device," Phineas was still saying. "Or she could be out of range. Just spitballing, here."

"What's 'out of range' for your―cuteness thing?"

"About 20 light-years."

"You think she could be in space?"

"It's not impossible."

PJ supposed that was true. After all, he'd been to Mars once, but that was another story.

Footsteps were coming down the hall. Marie walked in holding a large, silver tray, and announced, "Dinner's ready!"

"Oh, I got the plates!" Phineas pressed a button at the table, and moments later, a butler lined the table with plates and utensils. Marie placed the tray in the middle.

"Now we just wait for Mom," she said.

"She'll be here any minute," Phineas assured. "She had another meeting go late."

"They should just admit that 'late' is 'right on schedule' around here," sulked Marie.

At 'right on schedule,' more footsteps approached from the hall; the clacking sounds of heels this time. Soon the visage of President Isabella Flynn stepped inside. "Sorry if I made everyone wait."

"Actually, your timing was perfect." Phineas met his wife halfway across the room, and they shared a quick kiss. "Marie's pizza smells like it's hot out of the oven!"

"Dad! It was supposed to be a surprise!"

"Oh, sorry, honey. I guess the scent of pizza is just too distinguishable after Ferb went through that phase in college."

Marie moped around a moment longer next to PJ while her parents took their seats across from them. "Since you kind of ruined the big reveal, Dad, I'll just pretend like that didn't happen. I present to you..." She grasped the handle of the lid. "Pizza a la―eek!"

Just as she lifted the lid, the table blew up. That was what PJ thought. After the pop and flash of yellow and red, the next thing he knew, he had pizza sauce and cheese smeared all over him.

"Oops," giggled Marie. She was likewise covered from head to toe in pizza toppings. "It exploded again!"

Phineas had been the only one to react fast enough. He had propped up his plate vertically just before impact, protecting his face from the splash zone.

Isabella was technically covered in pizza, but not in the same way as Marie and PJ. A neon green forcefield barrier had materialized into existence to surround the foot or so of space around her body, blocking any pizza chunks from reaching her. The forcefield faded away and the pizza chunks slopped to the floor around her, leaving her clean as a whistle.

"Looks like that anti-sniper forcefield you made for me works," Isabella informed her husband, while dipping a finger in cheese and inserting that finger in her mouth.

Marie looked at her parents tentatively, afraid they'd react in anger.

Rather, Phineas nodded exuberantly. "Wow, honey! Exploding pizza!? Now that's a blast from the past, I haven't seen that in years! Your cooking skills have really improved, Marie!" He went to give her a proud hug, while awkwardly trying to avoid the pizza all over her as he did so.

"Yeah, I―uh, meant to make it that way. That―was the surprise!" She gave it her best effort to roll with it and sound convincing. "Hehe, surprise?"

"Wonderful, wonderful," Phineas said, oblivious to her charade. "I'm gonna grab some napkins. You guys, dig in!"

The food was scattered all across the table and even on to the floor, so PJ wasn't sure what he was supposed to 'dig in' to. He watched the Presid―no, he had to remind himself to call her Isabella now―who managed to cut a slice out of what was left on the tray, and served himself the same way. Soon enough, Phineas was back with a plethora of napkins, and PJ wiped himself down before he started eating.

"So, how was school today?" Isabella directed at Marie once they all had their food.

"Good," she succinctly stated. "Guess what happened in band class? Bobby's internet tooth flew out while he was playing the tuba! It was hilarious, I can't wait to tell Tommy about it!"

"That reminds me." Isabella dabbed at the corners of her mouth with her napkin. "How are Ferb and 'Nessa holding up under the lawsuit?"

"They're weathering the storm like champs," answered Phineas. "I was just telling PJ about it."

"Ah, yes." Isabella turned her gaze his way. "And how about you, PJ? I know you had a good day today. My advisors tell me you ran a successful mission against the Conspirium."

"I have to give all the credit to my unit," PJ said. "And to the whatchamacallit that turns whatever it hits into a smoothie. Without that thing, we wouldn't have been able to take every person alive like we did, and we could have lost some of our own. Unfortunately though, we didn't find Suzy."

"The way I see it, we smoked her out of another hiding hole. We'll catch her, eventually."

PJ nodded. "Maybe we'll be able to get some more information from the prisoners we captured today. And as soon as we have a full analysis of what they were working on at the warehouse, we might finally know what they're planning to do next."

"Excellent. I knew I picked the right person for the job." Isabella put down her fork and looked around the table, smiling. "This is the first time we've been able to sit down for dinner together since the election, isn't it? And, of course, it's the first time since PJ joined us. It's so nice to be together like a normal, happy family. I love you all so much." She took Phineas by the hand. The couple looked deeply into each other's eyes, and PJ could feel the care they had for each other practically gushing.

"Jeez, Mom, no need to get all dramatic about it," Marie said, uncomfortable around her parents' display of affection.

"Just you wait. These little 'mom moments' will be a big deal for you too when you have a family of your own."

So this is what it's like, PJ thought to himself. Having a family. People who care about you just because you're in their lives. And not because you can hack or fight or spy or save. Something deep inside of him welled up and burst, and he suddenly cared about these people, too. Intensely. Fiercely. Indescribably. They weren't a mission to him, anymore. They were a family. They were his family. It was one of the happiest feelings he had ever had in his life. He looked down and took a large bite of food to hide an irrepressible smile from the others.

"You look like you're really enjoying your food there, PJ," Isabella pointed out.

"It beats worms and insect larvae," he replied.

"Hey, Mom," Marie blurted, "you know how Gustav is going to be on vacation Monday? Would it be okay if PJ covered the shift for him?" Gustav was Marie's regular detail. That meant on weekdays, he was her bodyguard while she attended school.

"I suppose he could," hummed Isabella, "unless he's already busy working on the Conspirium case?" She fielded the question PJ's direction.

"Our raid on the Conspirium warehouse lot today was the best lead we had on them," PJ answered. "Some of the CIA analysts think we rounded up all the Conspirium except Suzy today, but I believe we have barely scratched the surface. We still have a lot of work to do."

Marie's shoulders drooped sadly.

"But that doesn't mean they need me over there all the time," he continued. Marie perked back up. "I can delegate some of my assignments to someone and watch Marie for the day."

"Oh! Can he, Mom?"

"I don't see why not."

Marie beamed. "Yes!" she exclaimed, pumping her fist victoriously.

Soon, they finished dinner, and everyone bade each other good night. PJ accompanied Marie to her room, listening to her excitedly list all the things they could do on their day together.

"The other cool thing everyone's doing right now is the handstand challenge," she rattled off. "You can do a handstand, right? I was thinking I could do a handstand, and then you could do a handstand on my feet, so we'd be handstand stackers! How cool would that be?" She suddenly yawn deeply.

"Marie," PJ reminded her, "I'll be on the clock, we won't be able to just 'hang out.' I'll need to be in serious mode."

"You mean, 'seriously boring' mode!" She yawned again. "Do you want to sleep in my room tonight?"

"I think I'll use mine, thanks."

"Okay." She stifled a third yawn. "Good night." She opened her door.

"Good night," offered PJ.

"See you in the morning." With that, Marie closed her door. Immediately she opened it again, blushing. "Forgot to brush my teeth," she admitted as she passed PJ.

He watched her disappear into the washroom before slipping into his own bedroom just down the hall. The human-sized bed was perfectly made, and would stay that way as he curled into a ball on top of the comforter and drifted off to sleep.

I forgot to mention this, but it should probably be said. I do not own the characters Thomas or Marie. I don't even know much about them. No promises on representing them in any way IC to how they were created by Sam-Ely-Ember and Angelus19.