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“I am going to destroy you!”
Perry growls at her, and she can picture his expression without turning to look, the frown between his eyebrows, the downturn of his beak. He knows it as well as she does: her victory is imminent.
Stacy is on first place, on the last lap of the race, with only four more curves and turns before she reaches the end. Perry is on eight place and—Stacy sneaks a glance at his half of the screen—he currently has no items that could help him, with more than half the course ahead of him. They both know how this is going to end and Stacy is ecstatic about it.
Perry is so unfairly good at Mario Kart.
Stacy can count on one hand the amount of times she’s beat him: exactly two. Although to be fair, they haven't played that many times. Perry has won eleven out of the total of thirteen races they’ve played. Fourteen races, now.
They don’t tend to hang out at her house—or at his, for that matter. It’s safer to meet in cafés or parks or—once—at the bowling alley. Far away from any areas the Flynn-Fletcher’s are known to frequent, or most other people they know, for good measure.
Stacy understands the need for secrecy, of course she does. And she likes hanging out with Perry. It felt a bit awkward at first, but he’s a funny guy, and a good friend, and Stacy gets the idea that he really needs somebody he can be honest with. She is more than happy to be that person for him, so she makes sure to text him frequently, to organize hang-outs and, when she knows her house will be empty, to invite him over to play video games or watch movies, or those soap operas he likes, or whatever else he might like to do. She knows he could do all that at his place whenever the Flynn-Fletcher’s aren’t home, but she also knows it’s a lot more fun to share those activities with a friend, and she doesn’t think Perry has many other people who can play video games with him. So whenever she can, and whenever their schedules coincide—Perry is a very busy guy, it turns out—she makes a point to invite him to hang out.
Today was a perfect day for it: her mom had a conference out of town this afternoon, so she’d be gone until the next day; Phineas and Ferb had their robotics club after school; Candace had a date with Jeremy; Mr. Fletcher was at work and Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher was volunteering at the library this afternoon; Dr. Doofenshmirtz had come down with the flu; and Ginger had texted that she had plans. So nobody at Perry’s would notice his absence, he didn’t have to go in to work, and Stacy had the house all to herself; all of which meant she could invite her friend over and destroy him at Mario Kart.
She is so excited that she’s leaning forward on her seat, almost out of the couch entirely, because she’s just made the last turn and the end is now in sight, only a bit of more of a stretch now and—
And she hears the lock click—
And she throws the controller into the table with such force that it bounces, frantically reaching for the TV remote instead and switching to the first channel she finds and—
“—so Mom’s gone, and Stacy should be…” Ginger’s voice trails off as she opens the door and sees the back of Stacy’s head sitting on the couch. “…Right here.”
Stacy turns around.
“Hey Ging.”
“Hello. What are you doing here? You said you would be at the mall.”
Stacy shrugs. She had said that because she thought she’d be meeting Perry out at their usual café, before finding out her house would be empty and inviting him over instead.
“Change of plans. You? I thought you had something with the girls?”
Ginger shrugs as well. “Change of plans.”
Stacy studies her little sister for a moment and then asks: “Who were you talking to just now?”
“Oh.” Ginger blinks and looks down, prompting Stacy to follow her gaze. “Just Pinky.”
“Pinky?” That is, indeed, Isabella’s chihuahua standing there next to her sister. “Why is he here?”
Ginger finally closes the door and walks towards the living room, the little dog following her.
“Uhh… I’m pet-sitting for Isabella.” She says and frowns down at Pinky when he yips at her words.
Then she finally rounds the couch and stops immediately when she spots Perry, back to all fours and his ‘mindless pet’ gaze. “What is Perry doing here?”
“I’m pet-sitting for Candace,” Stacy says, and has to resist the urge to slap her forehead. Perry churrs at her in what she knows is an annoyed tone and Stacy spares a second to glare at him.
Ginger stares for a long moment, frowning at her and Perry both.
“Oooookay,” she says eventually. “We are—I mean, I’m taking Pinky upstairs. Don’t bother us. I mean me. Don’t bother me. Enjoy your… boxing match?” she says, glancing at the TV.
Stacy follows her eyes and finds there is indeed a boxing match playing. “We will.” She says, and watches as her sister takes the stairs two at a time, the little dog following after her jumping up each step, and waits until she hears her bedroom door close.
Only then does she finally give in to the urge to groan and puts her head in her hands.
Beside her, Perry offers a sympathetic chirp and Stacy sighs.
“I’m sorry, Perry. Ginger said she had plans and would probably be gone until dinner.”
Perry, still on all fours, crosses the couch and pats her arm in a comforting gesture.
“Yeah, I know. I’m still sorry she interrupted us. I was totally about to beat you— Oh damn! I was about to beat you!”
Stacy scrambles for the TV remote again and switches back to the game only to find— the race had ended, of course. The menu offers her the information on the last race and— Oh. Of course. She finished eleventh and Perry twelfth. Obviously.
“That’s not fair,” she complains, and Perry makes another soothing noise at her.
“I was totally about to beat you. We both know that. I think this should totally count as another win for me,” she argues, but the smile on Perry’s beak is enough answer for her to know that no, actually, this won’t count as anything at all.
“Damn,” she sighs.
She pauses for a moment and strains her ears, barely able to make out a murmur from upstairs. Then she looks back at Perry.
“It’s probably not safe for us to play another round now, is it?”
Perry gives her a look.
“I know I yell! I just get excited, okay.”
He shakes his head, but he’s smiling as he does it, finally relaxed enough to sit back up.
“Damn. Well, I guess we can still watch something,” she says, reaching for the remote again. “Is that soap you like playing today?”
Evening has long given way to night, and Stacy spent most of the time after Perry left a couple hours ago on the couch, working on her homework in between bouts of distraction watching TV. Now she stands and stretches before putting her things away on her backpack again and tidying the living room a bit. Then she sets her bag by the door for tomorrow and checks the time on her phone.
That done, she heads to the kitchen, finding the bills mom left for them on the table. She still makes an effort to check the fridge and pantry before calling out for her sister.
“Hey, Ging! Come downstairs!” Stacy yells.
“Coming!” Comes her sister’s reply.
After a couple minutes Ginger descends the stairs and joins Stacy in the kitchen.
“What?”
“I was going to make mac and cheese, but mom left us money if we wanted to order a pizza or something instead.”
“Mac and cheese is fine. I’ll help you grate the cheese?”
“That’d be great, thanks.”
They get to work side by side on the counter. Stacy has a CD playing lowly from the living room and she watches with a smile as her sister sways to the rhythm of the music, humming along.
After a few minutes, with preparations done and their dinner on the way, Stacy washes her hands on the kitchen sink and takes a seat at the table, across from Ginger, who is typing rapidly on her phone and still tapping her foot along with the music.
“So…” She says, trying to sound casual about it. “You were looking after Pinky?”
Ginger looks up and then quickly looks back down at her phone. “Oh, yeah. He just… He had to go to the vet earlier today and he was a bit nervous afterwards. And Isa had practice with the swimming team today, and her mom worked obviously, so she asked me to keep an eye on Pinky, offer him some company, you know.”
“Of course, yeah.”
There’s a pause that stretches between them before Ginger looks back up and asks: “And you? With Perry?”
“Yes. Yep. Uhmm, there’s some construction going on at their neighbors’ place and the noise bothers Perry, makes him a bit nervous. And Candace had a date, and the boys had robotics club, and Mr. Fletcher was at work and Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher volunteers at the library on Tuesdays so… They didn’t want to leave Perry alone at home, so I offered to have him here for a few hours.”
“I see.”
“Yeah, you know how he is. He doesn’t do much.”
“Yeah.”
“Yes.”
“Pinky doesn’t either.”
“What?”
“Do much, I mean. Well, he can play fetch. And Isa taught him how to swim. She also tried to take him to dog first aid classes but he didn’t like them much, I think it stressed him out.”
“I see.”
“Yeah.”
After another uncomfortably long silence both sisters reach for their phones almost at the same time and the conversation ends as abruptly as it began.
Stacy pulls up her chat with Perry and texts him:
dude theres smth weird going on w ging
and pinky ??
i think she might b onto u?
i hop not
i didnt tell her obvsly
but she might guess?
well
prob not
bc u being a secret agent is smth crazy unbelievable
and noone would just guesss that
but u kno wht i mean
She sighs when she doesn’t get an immediate response, but she knows better. He can’t be seen with a phone at all, so he can only reply when he finds a moment to be alone and away from prying eyes. Unfortunately for him, both Phineas and Ferb love him very much and are very attentive to him; and also, Candace is always on high alert for anything bust-able.
Well. Not unfortunate. But more like, mildly inconvenient sometimes.
Before long she’s checking on the food, and her phone pings, and then again and again, while she sets the table and serves dinner. She finally returns to her seat and looks at her phone while Ginger gets them both a glass of water, surprised to find Perry’s reply.
It shld be fine.
She wont ask.
But if she does find out I trust she can keep it secret.
Stacy stares at the messages for a long moment, rereads them twice to make sure she understands them properly. Then she texts back:
wut
y arent u worried
i feel like u shld be a lot more freaked out abt this than u are
Its fine Stacy.
Dont worry about it.
Really.
dude r u sure??
ur acting weirdd
Trust me.
u know i do
Then dont worry about it.
sure i guess
sleep well P
well have a rematch soon and i intend to win
again
Goodnight Stacy.
<"[ ]# P.
Stacy spends all of dinner thinking over Perry’s words and contemplating the events of the day. She considers Ginger’s arrival with Pinky, their interactions earlier and their conversation before dinner.
She feels uneasy about the whole thing—the idea that Ginger might find out Perry’s secret is terrifying but… But Perry doesn’t seem worried. In fact, he seems to be distinctly nonchalant about the whole thing, going so far as to reassure her and insist that she shouldn’t worry about it either.
There’s a faint prickling of suspicion growing in her gut, and she studies Ginger carefully. She seems no different than usual. She eats her dinner, spends most of the time on her phone since mom isn’t here to remind them of the ‘no phones at the dinner table’ rule, texting with someone or another. Normally, Stacy would assume she’s texting her friends. Now, however…
But, well. Perry told her not to worry about it. Perry said Ginger wouldn’t ask, and he’s right, she hasn’t. Perry said that if Ginger found out, he trusted she could keep his secret. The more she thinks about it the more her suspicion grows, and there’s an idea now at the back of her head, a picture being painted with the clues she has but—
But.
But she shouldn’t ask. She probably shouldn’t even be thinking about it at all. If she is right—and she can barely bring herself to acknowledge what she’s thinking she might be right about—then it would be much better for everyone involved if she stayed ignorant. It would be safer for one. And for another—well. She’s already keeping one secret. It might be selfish of her, but she can admit that she would rather not have to carry another one.
She doesn’t regret it. Not for one moment does she regret her choice to keep her memories and, with them, to keep Perry’s secret. She is glad to know, actually, to be able to be there for Perry when she knows nobody else can be.
She doesn’t like that it has to be a secret at all, but she understands his reasons, and she understands that his bosses and whatever organization he works for—O.W.C.A was it?—have their dumb rules and Perry isn’t in a position to do anything about it.
She just hates lying to her best friend and lying to the boys she considers little brothers. She knows Perry hates it too, as well. And perhaps that is why she is so willing to do it: sharing the secret among the two of them offers him a brief respite, a moment of relief, somebody with whom he can be honest and truthful, authentic like he can’t be with anyone else, and that, she knows, is worth a lot to him.
So she bites her tongue and pushes the thoughts out of her mind entirely.
They finish dinner quickly and tackle the dishes together, Stacy drying after Ginger washes. Afterwards, she takes care of making sure all doors and windows are locked, curtains drawn and lights off. She shoots a text to her mom on her way up the stairs, letting her know they are both fine, that they ate, and are heading to bed.
Then she goes through her nightly routine; changing into pajamas, washing her face and teeth, applying the acne cream to her pimples.
When she exits the bathroom she finds her sister coming out of her room and pauses. She hesitates only for a moment before deciding to say something.
“Hey, Ging.”
“Yes?”
“If you ever want to… keep Pinky company again. You can. Here at home or anywhere else. He’s… He’s a good dog. And if you want to hang out with him you can.”
Ginger blinks at her, expression morphing quickly through surprise, confusion and something like understatement.
“Oookay… And Stace?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s cool that you hang out with Perry too. He’s a cool platypus.”
Stacy smiles.
“Yeah. He really is.”
Ginger smiles too, and it feels like they’ve come to an agreement of some sort.
“Goodnight Stace.”
“Night Ging. Remember to set your alarm. And don’t stay up too late.”
“Nah, I’m beat.”
“Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says, and guided by instinct she leans down to press a kiss to the top of her sister’s head.
She walks back to her room and climbs onto her bed. She plugs her phone in and makes sure her alarm is set for the morning. Then she turns off the light and lays down.
She thinks about platypuses and chihuahuas. She thinks about secret animal agents wearing fedoras. She thinks about being friends with your best friend’s pet, about secret friendships, and about secrets well kept.
She falls asleep without realizing it, and has nothing but pleasant dreams.