Hey, thanks for the reviews guys :D I love it when people care enough to comment on my storytelling. That's probably why I'm so addicted to this website.

I watched my first ever episode of "Phineas and Ferb" about a week ago and completely fell in love with it. Since then I've become something of an aficionado. (Seriously you guys ask me anything ;D ) One of the things that I found interesting about the series was Doofenshmirtz's relationship with his daughter and his ex-wife. It was an extremely minor side plot, but still a pretty mature topic for the cartoon's target audience. In the episode "Hail Doofania" we learn that Charlene doesn't know (or possibly pretends that she doesn't know) about Heinz being an evil scientist. Which leaves us with the question: "Why did they break up?" The series never provides us with a satisfying explanation. Also, there's an episode where Charlene mentions that she never changed her name back from Doofenshmirtz. I don't know what you think, but I'm betting that you have to be a little bit more than sentimental to keep a name like "Doofenshmirtz". I thought it might be interesting to explore the nature of their relationship a little with this story.

Chapter 3

Heinz wasn't quite sure where he was. All he knew was that it was a small, windowless room with grey walls. There was a large mirror mounted on the wall beside a locked door, but besides that the room seemed to be entirely empty.

He looked down at his hands and saw that they were shackled together. Why were his hands shackled together? His heart began to race with panic and he stood up quickly, falling over, and scraping his chin against the cement floor.

"Curse you Perry the Platypus...," whimpered Heinz, cradling his wounded face and blinking back the tears that had gathered in the corners of his eyes.

He rolled onto his back and observed his feet, realising with a fresh pang of horror that they were shackled as well. He rolled back onto his stomach and began inching toward one of he walls like a worm. It took him at least five minuets to do this, but he figured it was worth it to be able to rest his back against something.

After awhile he managed hoist himself into a sitting position against the wall opposite the mirror, and that ominous, locked, door. He could see himself reflected in the mirror's surface, trembling slightly, as he hugged his knees to his chest. He put his head down so that he wouldn't have to look at himself.

During the course of his life, Heins he had experienced a lot of really shitty things among them, one sided love, abysmal failure, and severe pain, usually as the result of his own clumsiness. But this was without doubt the worst thing that had ever happened to him. Where was he and what the hell was going to happen to him? He began to cry...because deep down he knew the answers to both of those questions.

...

"It's one-way glass," said Howard, tapping the large, metal framed window behind his desk.

"I can see that," said Charlene.

Her expression was a mixture of pity and horror, as she observed the shattered continence of her ex-husband through the one-way glass. He was trembling, and tears where pouring out over his cheeks in steady streams. Judging by the way he was opening and closing his mouth, it was safe to assume that he was bawling loudly.

"What did you do to him?" she asked, and her voice came out in a horrified whisper.

"I haven't even touched him yet," said Howard very manner-of-factly.

"But he's crying...," crooned Charlene sympathetically.

"He's probably just afraid," said Howard waving the issue aside as insignificant. "I wouldn't make you watch the real thing...not unless of course...you wanted to."

"Don't be disgusting, Howard," snarled Charlene. "...I still can't believe that, of all people, my ex-husband is a threat to national security."

"Yes, well...he has weapons of mass destruction so..."

"Let's just get this interview over with so that yo with your damn research."

"OK," agreed Howard and he removed a few official looking documents from one of his desk drawers, placing them in front of Charlene so that she could read them.

Charlene adjusted her glasses, and looked down at the first page of the survey. She read one of the questions at random.

State your name and your relation to the suspect.

"Here's a pen," said Howard, clicking open one of his official looking executive desk pens and placing it beside the stack of papers.

Charlene took the pen and scribbled an answer on the lines printed below the question.

"My name is Charlene Doofenshmirtz," she wrote. "And Heinz Doofensmirtz is my ex-husband."

Charlene cringed. Why was her legal name still Doofenshmirtz? Who, keeps a name as ridiculously stupid and ugly as Doofenshmirts when they've been divorced for a half a decade? ...but perhaps this wasn't the best moment to contemplate such a question. Howard was staring at her, carefully observing her expressions and body language as she filled out the papers. Obviously this was part of the test, he would assess the honesty of her answers through careful observation, and make his decisions accordingly.

The questions two through twelve were about the nature of the relationship. How did Charlene feel about the relationship? Had Heinz been an abusive husband? Had he been unfaithful? Had Charlene been unfaithful? Did they have an open relationship? How was their sex life? Did they have any children together, and if so how was custody divided?

Charlene answered all of these questions as honestly as she could (except for the one about the kids). Heinz had never been violent or abusive, and he had never cheated on her. Charlene had cheated on him, however. (She still felt a bit bad about it, even though she was confident that he had no idea.) So why had the two of them slit up? That was a really good question, and Charlene was having some trouble answering it.

She thought for a moment and then began to write.

"Heinz and I split up because of money issues," she wrote. "He has always been frivolous with our finances and that put our relationship under stress. He has stolen massive amounts of money from me by means of identity theft, and home invasion. Often he charges his outrages purchases to my credit card."

"Jeese, I belong on the Jerry Springer Show," said Charlene aloud as she read over her answer.

She read the next question. It disturbed her.

Does this individual have any recorded fears or phobias? If so, please list them.

Charlene's pen hesitated over edge of the paper. She didn't want to think about what this information would be used for, but the images kept coming into her mind. It was making her want to wretch. Poor Heinz...what ever he did to be a "threat to national security"...it couldn't have been bad enough to deserve this. She didn't want him to be hurt...but that was inevitable now, wasn't it?

"This'll teach you to steal from me you son of a bitch," thought Charlene viciously and she quickly listed all of Heinz's phobias on the lines printed below the question.