Paper chain-branded coffee cup in hand, the vividly ginger-haired intern entered the property of the Organization Without a Cool Acronym. As he passed the entrance sign bidding passersby to look away from the secret agency, the young freckled man blew a stream of air over the lid of his drink before attempting a sip. Simultaneously, his phone rang.
Reaching into his pants pocket, he then saw it was his boss, Major Monogram, calling. Casually, Carl answered.
"Hello, sir. Don't worry, I'm right outside. I won't be late."
A gruff but amiably-toned voice responded. "Well, good. But actually, I'm calling to let you know that I will be late. Quite a bit, actually. I'm taking a half-day to inspect some new equipment for the agency...what do you think about a karaoke machine in the studio?"
"I think it'll fit right in next to the Garage Band gaming setup, sir," Carl smiled, already imagining the added hours of goofing off he and his boss could engage in together. In a lot of ways, this was a great job to have.
"Oo..! Good thinking, Carl," the older man approved before seemingly remembering the main point, "Anywho, I just figured I should let you know that I won't be there, and that I'm going to need someone to fill in. And that's exactly what I've gotten, so get out there and help save the world!"
Carl felt a prick of delight in his gut. That meant he was going to be in charge, right? Oh, it always felt so good when the Major depended on him. When Carl got to step up, make him proud and be praised. Major Monogram was rather stingy with praise, but that just made earning it all the sweeter. And Carl had managed the agency on his own before. Holding down the fort for a bit should be a cinch.
"Of course..! You can count on me, sir!" Carl saluted with his coffee cup despite his boss not being able to see him. Major Monogram made a vague noise of acknowledgment, likely already distracted by the toys he was inspecting, and hung up.
Walking into the grand agency building and beelining directly for the room housing the database he operated, Carl was smiling even larger. He paused only to toss his finished beverage into a trash can before heading to see what news had come in from the world of evil, after which he would process the information and assign the most fitting animal agents to combat the ones doing said evil.
However, as he approached, Carl would find someone in his seat.
Face falling, he touched the rims of his thick purple glasses to recognize the other young man in a simple grey hoodie. The family resemblance was uncanny.
"Monty? What are you doing here?"
Turning, the brunette at the station offered a greeting smile. "Oh, hey. Morning, Carl. Yeah, my dad's not gonna be in for a while..? Something about testing sensitive agency tech. And I was in the area, so he asked me to be in charge."
Instantly, Carl's face hardened. Seriously? Major Monogram just decided to put his son in charge of the entire agency? Just because he was 'in the area'?!
"You're in charge..?" the ginger echoed flatly. To be honest, he and Monty didn't see eye to eye most days, mostly due to competing for the Major's attention. "You've never even assigned an agent..! I'm the one with all the experience!"
"Pff. How hard can it be?" Monty shrugged. "Doesn't Dad pretty much just talk in front of a camera? And you're the camera guy, right? So you just have to worry about making it look good. I'm pretty sure Dad's just hoping this'll get me more interested in the whole 'secret agent' thing anyway, which I'm not, so if you can work with me as your boss, we'll both get out of here a lot faster."
Sourly, Carl looked to the side and gave a grumble of agreement. It still should be him running things in the Major's absence. It had sounded so much like he was going to get to..! Nepotism was a bitch.
"Great," Monty hemmed, not particularly thrilled about the arrangement himself, especially because it seemed something was making Carl particularly grouchy, and things tended to be a bit catty between himself and Carl in general. "So I hear you know what all those buttons do, which is also great because I can't seem to figure out how to locate the mission files." A thumb was tossed to the massive supercomputer he sat at. "Do you mind? I'll just be over at the camera getting ready."
Now pointing where he was headed, he stood and traipsed over toward the other half of the studio where the television-grade standing camera and filming backdrop were located.
Resentful for the breezy way in which he was ordered, Carl mimicked Monty snidely under his breath and took his rightful place at the information station. He grumbled further about how Monty had changed his chair and cranked it back into the position it should be. Then he began the process he'd been planning on starting anyway, only confirming smugly to himself that he didn't need Monty. In fact, he spared a moment to glower at Monty out of the corner of his eye, the tall brunette taking his time to wander idly about and put his hands all over the smattering of leftover props from previous broadcasts, the concession table, and the gaming paraphernalia that was for Carl and the Major to share.
Even the way he just stood around doing nothing irked Carl. Useless. At least if Major Monogram was standing idle, he was providing eye candy. Especially because he didn't like to wear pants in Carl's presence. But aside from that, he tended to be chatty or following some new themed whim for the day. Monty was so boring.
Nevertheless, Carl told himself he was going to remain professional. He was going to do his job right and prove just how much better at it he was than Monty could ever be. Prove how invaluable he was. He printed the files Monty would need to address every agent, queued up the accompanying graphics to aid him in his presentation, made sure the lighting was flawless and worked the camera while Monty took turns informing each animal of their nemesis' schemes.
Meanwhile, Monty did his best to pretend Carl wasn't even there. In his opinion, Carl was kind of a shrimpy dweeb and gave off some real weirdo vibes, but he still tried his best not to be too judgemental. They were just completely different people and unfortunately he couldn't see himself getting along with the guy any more than it seemed Carl thought they could. They could put aside their differences if needed, but in this setting? The tension was thick and it felt best if they just did their best to ignore one another, as impossible as working directly together made that.
After the assignments were out, Carl followed Monty to the cubicle area, informing him of the paperwork he needed to review and the agent reports he needed to file. When Monty tried to ask Agent E, an American eagle, for his report, however, he couldn't even understand the screeches and flapping directed his way, instead startling and ducking behind the cubicle wall. Carl sighed and had to play translator.
He had to play translator again when upon collecting all of the reports, Monty couldn't read any of the animals' markings. Clearly he'd learned nothing new since the last time they'd had to work together. Useless.
Sitting at his father's desk, fist sunk into the cheek sagging atop it, Monty struggled to keep his eyes open as Carl read him a report about a goldfish agent stopping some maniac from burying the tri-state area in salt or something. Doing his father a favor was nice and all, but this was just not his scene. And he just wasn't sure how much longer he could listen to this pasty dweeb's nasally voice drone on and on and on..!
Eventually, Monty sighed. "Don't you have anything more...action-oriented I could be doing?" Sitting up, he swished his arms loosely in mimed fighting. "You seem to have all this behind-the-scenes stuff handled, so what if I, y'know, trained some of the animals in combat? You have a gym, don't you?"
Lips tugging unimpressed, Carl turned from the file he'd been reading from and put a hand on his hip. "Of course we don't have a gym. These are animal agents? Animals don't use gyms."
Unibrow turning downward, Monty felt his annoyance rising as well. "And animals aren't usually secret agents either!"
Just as crossly, Carl bit, "So?"
Monty sighed more aggressively, leaning back in the plush rolling armchair. "Look, I just thought this job might be a little more exciting than paperwork and hanging out with you all day when I agreed to cover!"
Tossing the file down, Carl now had both his hands on his hips. "Oh, I'm sorry! Let me just go put the world in jeopardy again so you can go play pretend agent! It's not like I planned on being cooped up with you all morning either!" Both arms thrust for the window as he referenced an incident where they'd both played a hand in taking down an organization of villainy.
Pinching his nose, Monty tried to keep himself calm. "Carl...I know you're upset that my dad thinks I'm a better leader..." Glaring up at the standing man he reminded, "But you know you didn't even have the guts to try until I came along last time you were in charge..!"
"Totally different scenario! The world was at stake and Major Monogram was gone! I've kept this place running longer than you've been back in town, college boy!"
Monty stood stiffly. "You're in college, too! I'm a year older than you, actually! I've got more life experience! And I'm still more qualified because I'm my dad's actual son! This stuff is in my blood!"
"You can't even read the reports!" Carl tossed his hands up in his outburst. "But if you wanna play the relationship card, hoo boy, I guess that makes me your father-in-law, son, because I'm screwing your father!"
A sudden, sharp and deafening silence sliced through the room.
Monty was posed recoiled in bug-eyed shock, trying to process if he'd heard what he thought he'd just heard.
Carl was posed simply with a slack face, his angry fists having fallen to his sides as he realized what had slipped past his lips.
Lightly, his hands now lifted to cover his mouth as his eyes flicked away. "...whoops."
"WHA—" Monty was bristling again, having recovered in the same amount of time, and was now registering that Carl was not taking the words back. "You're having sex with my dad?! Since when?!" Gruffly, he stepped forward, both fists bunching into the white lab shirt the freckled ginger wore. It felt disgusting to touch him after this revelation, but at the same time the news made him so angry. His own father...this...this nasally nineteen-year-old kid?!
Flinching at the violent grab, but then realizing he wasn't being struck, Carl immediately switched into damage control. He was smart. A quick assessment told him he should probably try and spin this around on Monty.
"Since none of your business," he sniped back curtly, "I'm keeping a relationship secret for you. I think it's only fair you'd return the favor. I mean I'm sure your mom probably wouldn't want to know about it either, huh."
The confidence in Carl's voice made Monty's blood boil. However, disgust won this battle and he tossed the shorter man away from himself. "Are you kidding?! I didn't want to know about this! And this is..." His hands clawed. "This is totally different than Vanessa! My dad is literally thirty years older than you!"
Honestly irked by that, Carl bristled back. "Yeah, well at least I'm not dating a minor, Minor Monogram!"
"I...that's..!" Flustered even more, Monty hated how there was some small point to be made there, and felt snagged. But as a result, he also only felt more frustrated. "That's still totally different! At least I'm not cheating! You're totally enabling my dad having an affair! And you're actually sleeping together! You're younger than me! Ugh!" Here his face screwed up as that fact truly sank in. He didn't need the mental image, thank you. "How does that even happen?!"
Considering just escorting Monty to one of several methods O.W.C.A had for erasing memories, Carl only hesitated on the idea because this was Major Monogram's son. Purely out of respect, it felt like it might be better to at least try and deal with this conversationally. But Carl still felt insulted by Monty's disgust.
"Maybe I've just got better game," he snarked, "I still manage to keep a more mature man around, and have more action."
"No!" Stiffly, Monty stepped forward and shoved Carl several times away from him, the shorter man raising his arms in flustered defense. "Just no! Okay? You're sick! God, he's sick!" In horror, he realized a whole new angle to consider and pondered openly, "Is-is my dad a pedophile..?"
Scoffing, Carl argued, "Hey..! I'm more than legal, you know..!"
"Yeah, well you look twelve!" Monty shot back. Good lord, he never could have imagined, but maybe his dad had groomed Carl into this...whatever it was.
Hands on his hips again, Carl couldn't help being insulted. "Excuse me?!"
A noise outside the window caught both of their attentions before this new layer could be added to the argument – the sound of tires on pavement. Approaching the window wall revealed Major Monogram's car pulling into his parking space below the office. Monty's brow firmed.
"Perfect timing," he declared evenly, "I'm getting to the bottom of this right now."
Before Carl could react, he'd stormed out of the room. Swiftly, still wanting to keep this contained as much as he could, the spectacled man darted after.
They found Major Monogram entering through one of the jet hangars, the massive rolling door opening upward as he spotted the two marching his way with very different tones in their body language.
Oblivious to the tense atmosphere, the mustached Major began, "Ah, Monty, Carl..! I trust things have been going well. Carl, I'm leaving the hangar door open because I thought it might be easier for the delivery guy to just go through-"
"Dad!" Sharply, Monty cut him off, an arm jutting behind him to the shorter party stopping just as sharply but more meekly. "You're having sex with Carl?!"
A fresh silence cut crisply into the air, the scene frozen as a Winter's frost. Slowly, Major Monogram's eyes slid away from his son's, clearly feeling caught and put on the spot, and reflexively trying to pretend he'd never entered the scene.
Seeing his father look away, Monty sent both fists groundward in annoyance. "I can still see you, Dad..." Why his father seemed to think he could turn invisible when confronted with an issue was a mystery. He'd always been like this. Sometimes he was just very immature, but Monty was not in the mood to deal with that right now.
Just as slowly, Major Monogram started backing his way out of the hangar and behind the wall.
"Oh no, get back here..!" Monty barked, and trotted forward to stop the man in green duds resembling army attire. Pushing him back into the hangar to complete the circle of discussion, he demanded, "Does that mean it's true? What is going on here, Dad?!"
Silently, Major Monogram's gaze flicked between his impatiently-waiting son and his sheepishly-shrugging intern. This was not what he'd been hoping to come into work to, to say the least. His mind was racing a mile a minute. How had Monty found out? Why was it such a big deal? It wasn't a big deal..! So he was dating Carl..! It wasn't like there was any spark left at home..! What was he supposed to say here?
Unable to find the right words in the moment, the white-haired man defaulted to his usual blame target.
"Dang it, Carl..!" In this case, it only could have been him who spilled the beans, so it didn't even feel unwarranted. Now he'd gone and ruined a good thing and gotten him put under a spotlight.
Rather perplexed by this response, watching his father frown at Carl and fold his arms while Carl folded his hands meekly and gave an apologetic smile, Monty had even less idea what was happening here. It almost seemed...normal to them. And far too flippant.
Sternly, he faced his father again. "Dad, that's not an answer. Are you actually having an affair? With him?" Once more, his hand thrust in Carl's direction. Once more, Carl looked offended.
Taking a moment to inhale and collect himself, Major Monogram was finally able to decide on a legitimate reply to Monty's concerns. Tenting his fingers in the brunette's direction, he offered, "Son, I think it's time we had a special talk..."
Monty's eyes bulged. "What? Ew! No, gross! Dad, I'm way too old for—"
"No, not that talk," the Major waved off hurriedly, then casting his eyes upward and motioning his hands conversationally, "Well, more like that-talk-adjacent..."
Monty blinked, having absolutely no idea what to feel right now.
Shortly, the three were seated at a round table in one of O.W.C.A's spacious meeting rooms, Major Monogram and Carl seated to flank Monty.
Clearing his throat awkwardly into a fist, still feeling very much cornered and not doing well with difficult subjects, Major Monogram once more began illustrating poorly with his hands.
"You see, Monty," he narrated in an uncertain ramble, "When a bird and a bee fall in love, they get married and have a baby. But sometimes that maybe happens too soon, and the bird and the bee end up staying together out of a sense of obligation. And maybe the bird starts thinking he doesn't even like bees all that much. And the older he gets, the more his bee is really, really boring to him. They even have separate beds..! This bird might start feeling like he really needs to stretch his wings, so he goes out and starts looking for a nice, juicy worm. Then he finds this one incredibly sexy worm he just can't resist – the worm is just so young and eager and nubile..."
Monty's face was grimly stretched into the most thin-lipped aghast humanly possible. He was not hearing this...
"Oh man, not to mention flexible~..."
Promptly, Monty clapped his hands over his ears and loudly began shouting 'la la la la' over his father's words. He got the picture, and he didn't like it.
Snapping out of it, Major Monogram looked up, realizing he'd gotten distracted. Across the table, Carl was lightly hunched and blushing, looking flattered but embarrassed. "Sir..!" Now was hardly the time to focus on such adjectives.
Clearing his throat again, Major Monogram corrected his focus. Once Monty registered that he'd stopped describing what made 'worms' attractive, he very tentatively let his hands away from his ears, and Major Monogram rushed to finish his narrative.
"So sometimes birds are just a lot happier with worms. Moral of the story: don't tell your bee—I mean mother."
Now a thick, palpable kind of silence settled in like a blanket. Luckily, this one was short-lived.
"Dad...you can't be serious." Monty was perplexed. "Happier? You're happier having an affair? Why are you even still with Mom at all? And why Carl?! Could you have at least picked someone who isn't younger than me?! And you don't even know bees are supposed to be the guys in that analogy!" Slumping, he let his face fall into desperately clawed hands.
"Really? Hm." After absorbing the final factoid, Major Monogram's cheeks pinched and he glanced away, putting his elbows on the table. "Well, it's...that's just how it worked out..."
Reaching to put a gentle hand on Monty's arm, Carl contributed, "Really, we met through work, but it's very mutual. I like a nice silver fox."
Pulling his arm away, but sounding almost defeated, Monty groaned, "Don't call my dad that..." No one needed to hear their parent referred to as a 'silver fox'.
Trying to ease the brunette's emotions in his own way, Major Monogram offered, "Look, Monty, your mother and I have basically been apart for years. We fell out of love just as fast as we fell into it, but then you were already on the way, and divorces are such a hassle...this is just easier. Isn't it fairer that we find new lives our own ways?"
Already unable to help feeling slighted to a degree by the mention of his parents staying together because of having him, Monty's posture righted again. "Fair?" he argued, "Mom clearly doesn't know about this! Don't you think you're being unfair to her?! I doubt she's pulling this sort of thing, either! You know what I think, Dad? I think you're a coward who can't tell her to her face you don't love her, so you're just sneaking around behind her back for some cheap thrills! And I think she deserves to know the truth!"
From inside his hoodie pocket, he lifted his phone pointedly.
Gasping, Carl immediately stood and urgently fled at top speed. Major Monogram froze, his face going taut. Feeling quite validated in his assessment, Monty thumbed open his contacts list.
Returning to the scene with an oversized syringe-looking object that was blue and covered in high-tech-looking panels, Carl sprinted up behind Monty and desperately raised it overhead, ready to plunge.
Then suddenly, from out of nowhere, a random green ray from the sky appeared through the nearest window, reaching across the room and blasting Monty full in the face. Carl and Major Monogram both stared after the short second this ray beam had manifested. No harm had come to Monty. Nothing looked different. In fact, his face was clear and he looked just as perplexed as they did.
The call he'd placed picked up, and Monty spoke to the woman on the other end in confusion. "I...have no idea why I'm calling you, Mom. I just blanked entirely. Sorry."
A short pause.
"Oh, yeah, I'm still stopping by for dinner. Uh-huh. Well, for some reason I just thought of worms...how about spaghetti? Uh-huh. Yeah, I know, weird, right? Okay, cool. See ya, Mom. Love you."
And he hung up. Then glancing over his shoulder, he quirked a brow. "...why is Carl ready to jab me with the most painful-looking version of a brain scrambler we have?"
Glancing up at the thing he still held aloft, Carl quickly shifted into pretending he was taking a massive stretch.
"Aaauuuh, what? Jab you? Don't be ridiculous. Hi, sir. As you can see, absolutely nothing out of the ordinary happened during Monty's visit. Most boring morning ever." Whistling innocently, he wandered off to put the device back where he'd gotten it from.
Major Monogram blinked curiously at his son, who was just watching Carl leave.
"Huh," Monty noted, "He's in an unusually chipper mood. I guess things must have gone well."
His own brow quirking, Major Monogram questioned, "You...don't remember what we were just talking about?"
Taking a moment to try, Monty came up blank. "Nnnno, sorry, Dad. It must have been so slow around here I tuned most of the morning out. Guess I'm still feeling it a little." Standing and taking a small stretch of his own, he noted, "I've got somewhere to be for lunch though, so I'd better get going. But hey, I'll see you at dinner?"
"Oh, uh...right..! Dinner. Yup." Opting not to look a gift horse in the mouth, Major Monogram stood as well.
Shortly, both the Major and Carl were waving Monty off from O.W.C.A's main doorway as he departed.
"Well, I'm not sure what happened," Carl noted, "But it was nice that it didn't have to be us to wipe his memory this time. Though of course I did still try to hold off on that solution as much as possible."
Folding his arms, Major Monogram responded, "Hmp. Yes, and perhaps one of these days, we'll figure out a way to fix your screw-ups and break it to him without doing this at all, Carl."
Bitter towards that remark, Carl's face pinched as he turned toward the other. "I could just make it a whole lot easier and break up with you..."
Instantly, Major Monogram's demeanor changed. "Woah, hey..! Let's not get hasty."
Now turning to head back inside, Carl gave a knowing, "That's what I thought, sir."
Remaining at the door for an extra moment, trying to come up with a good retort, Major Monogram ended up simply following in a huff with a short, "Dang it, Carl..!"