Hi there. You know, today I think I'm just going to skip to the...
Review Responses! (That didn't work, did it?)
Dreadwing 216: Thank you. Care to see?
Guestimation: Yes, I suppose Perfeneas and Isealia should naturally be different. Though this is AU, I have to try to keep them as in-character as the storyline allows. Also, the reason I can afford to use so much Spanish in this story - or any, really - is, because I had to move school districts once, I ended up taking the first year of Spanish class twice. ¿Divertido, no? (Yes, that was me being sarcastic in a foreign language. No judging! Jk.)
Phineas A: Graciela is not dating anyone. Sorry for any confusion.
Enjoy!~
Isealia sorted out her possessions. The scheme of the room was identical to that of the one Ferb and Graciela found themselves trapped in earlier; one of the two beds was given the honor of being used by her to get herself situated in her new, temporary Tri-State living quarters. She traveled light, yet prepared for anything. Nights too cold at the higher latitude? No problem, she brought her long-sleeved undershirt. Nothing to do in-between the following day's training sessions? She brought a book. Naturally, once everything was put neatly in its designated location, she left to find something else productive to do; this search was answered by a sharp knocking on the hotel room door.
Vivian peered through the eyehole and evaluated the rather peculiar-looking boy past it. She was expecting him; Graciela had informed her of his impending arrival, claiming he was a MOWCA agent sent to prepare her daughter for the test. "Isealia," she called, and continued in Spanish, "Graciela's friend is here. She said he has green hair, right?"
The girl perked up. "Yes, she said it's natural." Quietly, she smiled and started toward the door.
Vivian trusted Graciela would not send an imposter to the experiment mere days before her test. Yet she hesitated. "Okay. You may let him in," she finally allowed after a few seconds of contemplation.
Isealia did as she was told.
The boy blinked, half-smiled back at the beauty that was the girl in front of him, and waved. He was not interested in pursuing any kind of romantic relationship with her, but anyone would agree that Isealia's appearance was remarkably pleasing to the eye. "Hola, chico," Vivian started. Ferb did not answer verbally, so she pushed harder. "What is your name?"
"Ferb," the boy replied casually, as he and Graciela had previously decided it was okay to use his preferred alias.
"...Y?" Vivian asked, after a while of him not continuing, and Ferb chuckled at the sound. Dra. García-Shapiro only spoke her native language, and he found her accent reasonably amusing.
"May I introduce myself?" Isealia inquired of her mother, "Graciela recommended spending time with him to better prepare for the test."
Ferb was almost startled by the resemblance between Isealia's tone and Perfeneas's. Excluding the language barrier, and the proper nouns, Ferb could imagine his friend saying the same thing.
Vivian smiled. "So she did," she invited, allowing Ferb to step into the room.
Isealia extended a hand in a friendly manner. "I'm Isealia. Pleasure to meet you."
Ferb hoped Graciela was having as much success as he was.
The MOWCA agent peered around the garden. Her opinion had not changed - it was beautiful - but she was quite used to it as a result of her time with Isealia. The boy sitting next to her did not make it any more pleasant, either. She found her eyes climbing the side of the purple building looming over her, admiring its height. Therefore she did not notice when Irving bent down to his left to retrieve a flower from the bush next to him; he would have preferred the classic, a rose, but the bud he found his hand caressing was that of a calla lily.
It was better than nothing, he decided, and attempted to tuck the huge flower behind Graciela's ear. It fell out immediately, and the girl just as quickly snapped around to look Irving glasses to glasses. She was not sure whether to be annoyed, or flattered, or both; she was good enough friends with him, and he had so far been a surprisingly valuable part of her mission. Heck, if she looked at him close enough, she had to admit he was sort of cute, in a nerdy way. But at the same time, there was no denying that Irving Du Bois was a creep, on a massive scale.
The two turned their attention to the entrance of the building, where Perfeneas could be seen and heard approaching the garden to make his rounds. "Hey, Perfeneas!" Graciela called with a wave, gaining his attention. "We wanted to talk to you."
The boy perked up. "Okay," he agreed, moving to sit on Graciela's right. He had to be sure they had his full attention, after all; and taking care of the garden was one of those tasks that could be delayed for a more immediate chore.
"So, Phin-" Graciela began a series of violent faux coughs at her mistake. "Perfeneas. Yes. That's your name, not - what I was accidentally just going to say."
"I hope you feel better," the experiment bade, in response to her hacks. He did not react to the obvious.
Graciela instinctively thanked him for the gesture, a result of her experience with Isealia, and he politely responded with the appropriate "You're welcome." His somewhat suspicious ability to disarm was the only thing that kept that routine from becoming an annoyance whenever a family member caught a cold or such.
"Why, what were you just going to say?" Irving implored of his admired, who dismissed the question with a criticizing glance.
"Never mind," she muttered when further expected to answer the question. "Was actually wondering if you would... Show me some things. What do you usually do around here?"
Perfeneas considered his full daily routine, a grin dancing across his face. "I do whatever is needed of me, depending on the time of day. There isn't a single minute in any day that can afford to go to waste, after all!"
Irving saw what was coming immediately. In enthusiasm, he turned to Graciela and latched onto her, shaking her out of sheer excitement. To demonstrate his point, and his musical abilities, Perfeneas began spontaneously performing:
You would think it's real hard to be a perfect guy,
To never make people mad or see 'em start to cry-
But if you need my opinion, I'll gladly comply;
This is the truth: value youth; 'cause I can never tell a lie
And it's never the same, every day is a game!
Play your cards right, roll the dice, and maybe you'll win
Don't mess up, just fess up, move your pawn back to 'go'
Life is good as you make it, I'll show where to begin!
(The tempo picked up, and Perfeneas began using hard rock-type instruments.)
Do it fast, and do it right! Complete the day's work by night!
Dare to tread where no one goes! Be confident in what you chose!
Accessorize and mesmerize! Be the one they recognize!
Born of science, raised with light! Perfection means to do the right!
(The tempo and instruments immediately returned to normal.)
It is a grand ordeal, a dream come true
Listen and I'll explain to you
'Seize the day,' that's what they say
And 'xactly what I plan to do!
'Cause it's never the same, every day is a game!
Play your cards right, roll the dice, and maybe you'll win
Don't mess up, just fess up, move your pawn back to 'go'
Life is good as you make it, I'll show where to begin!
At the song's conclusion, Perfeneas promptly returned his instruments to their proper locations, while Graciela could do nothing but gawk. "Goodness gracious," she stuttered, perplexed at his talent, "For how long did you be practicing that?"
Perfeneas humbly waved off the compliment. "I just made it up," explained he with a flattered smile. "I was tasked with writing at least one song every day. They don't have to be long, but I have to write and perform them."
Irving bit into his fingernails not out of nervousness but in the humility he felt to bear witness to one of Perfeneas's numbers. Possibly even just to be in the presence of someone with such an ability to improvise.
"So you just did the whole thing on the spot?"
"Yes. Yes, I did," Perfeneas confirmed. Irving nearly fainted.
Graciela was not expecting to find a difference between him and Isealia so soon; the Mexican experiment was musically inclined, of course, but this assignment was unfamiliar territory for her. Graciela blinked again. "Okay, then," was all she could think to say.
"Was that all?" Perfeneas asked, picking up the large woven basket he had brought with him for collecting his harvest.
"Ah-h... I think so," stuttered Graciela.
Perfeneas cocked an eyebrow. "Well, if there's anything else you need, please tell me."
Graciela kicked her feet on the stone bench. There was one thing she did need a bit desperately, which would be nearly impossible to get without his help seeing as Ferb was nowhere to be found. "Am new to this country, you know..." She started. "My family no knows am here. I do not... I don't have a place to stay the night." She mumbled the last part, barely loud enough for Perfeneas to hear.
"You could come over my house," Irving suggested excitedly, "My parents are making Mex-" he stopped. "-Oh. Right. You're... Probably tired of that stuff by now, right?"
While this was false (Graciela had a bit of a weakness for her country's cuisine; she was going to miss it when all this was finished), the offer still did not quite appeal to her free-spirit expectations. She pulled her feet up and hugged her knees.
Perfeneas took this visual cue in stride. "You could stay in the guest bedroom upstairs," he suggested, earning a contemplating look; "I created it myself in preparation for a situation like this." He pulled her up and placed the basket down, with all intent to finish his job later. "Here, let me show you."
When the three arrived in the massive bedroom - which could pass for a mansion's master - Irving wished he had never brought up his house.
The second group of unexpected visitors to the apartment chose to right the doorbell instead of knocking. "Shotty not!" Doofenshmirtz called from an adjacent room, one finger pushing into the tip of his nose and the other hand thrown into the air, letting his refusal to be the one to open the door ring across the floor.
Perfeneas was busy entertaining Irving and Graciela, and when Cansummace noticed she was closest to the door it became clear she had no choice.
With a begrudging sigh, the thirteen-year-old strode slowly but efficiently over to the door; her entire composure brightened when the face of the person behind it clicked in her memory and a name appeared in her head: "Vanessa?"
"Cansummace!" The visitor returned the teen's smile. Five other females their age were stationed behind her, and Cansummace made quick work of matching their faces to the names Stacy, Jenny, Mandy, Lacie, and Eliza. The six composed the last of the three teams of secret agents that were assigned to the three experiments, but after it was discovered that Cansummace was insufficient, Vanessa's team was dismissed from their obligations concerning her. They continued their OWCA training, and still cared for their friend, but OWCA by-laws did not permit them to keep visiting her. "It's been too long. How are you and your brother?" She stumbled slightly on the 'your'.
"We're doing well. Perfeneas is going to that test in a couple of days, and we're - well, we're hoping he'll win." She cocked her head. "What are you six doing here, anyway? I haven't seen you in, like, years. Come in!"
They quietly followed Cansummace's invitation. "We just wanted to see how you two were faring for the test," Vanessa explained. "Where is... Doofenshmirtz?"
"Inside with Fen." Cansummace jabbed a finger deeper into the apartment. Usually Ferb would be the one calling him that nickname, but here it just seemed appropriate.
Vanessa faintly nodded to Stacy; "Great, I wanted to have a talk with him. You six chill." She stalked off in search of the evil scientist.
"O-okay..."
"Cansummace!" Stacy, as per the agents' plan, ran ahead of her comrades and briefly threw her arms around the failed experiment. "How's it going? I haven't seen you for so long!" She feigned a gasp. "And your braces are off! Come on everyone, let's go catch up." She linked arms with a surprised Cansummace and directed her to the other side of the apartment. The other four giddily followed.
Vanessa slinked past the room where she could catch glimpses of the legendary Perfeneas; her plan did not involve him yet, if at all. No, Vanessa's main priority right now was to conference with the lab coat-sporting father. She located him engrossed in the restoration of some intricate-looking -Inator, grease stains marking his long white sleeves; she cleared her throat cautiously.
He turned. "Hey, what do you... Say, if it isn't Vanessa!"
His pupils were dilated and his smile was genuine. "Vanessa, what are you doing here?" Doofenshmirtz wondered. For some reason he just could not place, she was one of the only people whose company he greatly enjoyed. Her presence, however, was but a pleasant surprise.
The fifteen-year-old looked around the room, making sure the other children could not hear her. "It's Agent Ferb. OWCA tells us he's gone AWOL - even the satellite tracker on his fedora is out. We've been dispatched to look for him." She gave him a probing glance. "Any leads?"
The smile disappeared. "No, I haven't seen him since earlier today." Doofenshmirtz buried his hands into his lab coat pockets. "Other than that, I…" He felt his left hand envelop something metal and, remembering, he retrieved the boxlike contraption that marked Ferb's absence. Handing it to the agent, he explained, "Oh, yes - he left this thing here. Have any idea what it does? I tried to figure it out myself, but I'm actually not that good at reverse engineering."
Vanessa evaluated the machine. "I know what this is, it's used to simulate a voice. If he put it here to distract everyone, this is where he must have made his escape." She looked stern. "How did you lose him?"
"He was invisible! How was I supposed to know he-"
"Sh!" Vanessa reminded Heinz to be quiet, and led him away from the others. "How is that possible? We don't have cloaking technology."
"Oh, he used that machine over there." Doofenshmirtz pointed to the invention that he was working on. "Ain't she a beaut? One of my best works, I'd say. Probably."
The brunette was not convinced he was the machine's true creator, but did not push the subject. "...Okay. Actually…" She thought for a moment. "Do you have any lemon juice on you?"
"I might, why? Got a nemesis you'd like to give some papercuts to?"
The teen shook her head, admittedly amused by Doofenshmirtz's logic. "Lemon juice can reverse invisibility," she explained. "You ever heard of invisible ink?"
"Invisible, Incorporated." Doofenshmirtz considered this. "What would they do there, mass produce transparent bulls? I can't imagine there'd be a market for that."
"No, that's not what I meant. If we have enough, we can trace his footprints to wherever he is."
"Well, it's a good thing the bo-I mean, I made this the other day, then." Doofenshmirtz whipped a king-sized sheet off another creation. "Behold! The Miscellaneous Fruit Juice-Inator!"
"Great. Now, as long as we can get out of here safely we'll take care of the rest."
This was desirable. Whatever was going on, Doofenshmirtz wanted no part in it. Vanessa approached her group.
"Alright, ladies," she began, pounding a fist into her open palm. "Here's the plan..."