Agent Russ pulled up to the house. It was an exceptionally average house. Its walls were a very average shade of off-white. The tiles of the roof were a particularly average shade of red. Bushes lined the house, filled with what, if one were to look them up, would be the Top Ten Most Common Flowers In America according to Horticulture Digest. Even the abandoned, half-broken tree fort in the background seemed designed to some ideal of standard-ness. Everything was deceptively average, which of course confirmed to Russ that he had the right place.
Setting down the kickstand, Russ walked slowly up to the door, giving the security system ample time to register him as a less than immediate threat. He could hear the submachine guns in the hedgerow spinning up just in case. He knocked gently three times on the painted wood.
"K." He said simply as the door opened.
The woman standing in front of him had platinum blond hair, black eyes, and wore a solid black catsuit with a turtleneck.
"I told you Pho, I'm done." She said with a strong British accent. "You'll need to find someone else to-" She trailed off. "Russ."
"Agent K. You're looking well."
"What are you doing here?" She asked furtively, looking up and down the street before pulling Russ inside. The house was quite large, two floors with multiple bedrooms, but apparently empty.
"What do you think?" Russ replied, straightening his tie again. "We want you back in the game, K."
"Absolutely not. I retired."
"We'd like you to un-retire."
The woman named K turned away from him. "You know why I left."
Russ said nothing. They both knew that reason… didn't matter anymore.
"Just leave me alone, Russ. I'm not interested."
Russ pulled out an envelope, and then sighed. "If I can't convince you… maybe he can."
"He?"
Russ gestured to the envelope.
K took it gently, cutting it open absentmindedly with a miniature laser. She scanned the first few lines of the letter, eyes gradually widening as she went. "I… he-"
"He's starting a new project. Details are classified but… he said he'd accept no one but you."
K looked over the paper again. "If this is a trick-"
"You know Comrade. It isn't."
Agent K stood up. "Let's get going then."
"Aren't you going to pack?"
"The house is replaceable." K said with determination. "Come on, get your cycle running."
"Don't you still have that car?"
"He's in the shop."
Agent Russ and Agent K hopped onto the spycycle, peeling out of the neighborhood and towards the interstate. "Where to?"
"Dickens Manor."
"What?"
"I still have one more party to pick up. You didn't think they were going to leave all the work to us old timers, did you?"
"Hrmp. Who are we after, then?" Agent K asked. Russ handed back a dossier. "Hrm. Impressive. Extensive detective work, previous FBI liaisons, mother of one." K grinned. "If I didn't know better Russ, I'd say you have a type."
"I'm not going to dignify that with a response."
"Can't take a joke?" K needled.
Russ snorted. "I think you know the answer to that question. You're just jealous you never could handle Toon cases."
"It's a niche field!" K protested.
"Don't know if I'd say that. Functional invulnerability. Comedic mastery. Narrative control. You'd be surprised at what a Toon could do if they were self-aware enough to make that work for them."
"Would I now." K quirked an eyebrow.
"Very surprised."
---
A few hours later, the pair pulled up in front of a sea-blue classical mansion. "Here we are. Home of the famous Dickens Detective Agency… now defunct."
"What happened?"
"Owner's wife was outed as a C-list supervillain after 35 years of marriage. Tends to put a damper on business." Russ replied. "I wouldn't bring it up."
The doorbell, which played a brief snippet of the Sailor's Hornpipe, summoned a blue-suited butler with a handlebar mustache… and an ankle monitor.
"Please do come in." the butler said primly, holding the door open. K couldn't help but stare at the apparently house-arrested butler. "Don't mind the ankle bracelet madam, I made the somewhat regrettable choice to assist the lady of the house during her… marital disputes."
"Rrright." Russ responded, stepping into a foyer filled with nautical paraphernalia. "We're looking for Ms. Phoebe."
"Of course, sir. I shall see if she is available."
Agents Russ and K waited patiently in the foyer. A short old woman passed by, hand in hand with what looked like a bodybuilder out of Miami Vice. A small boy in a homemade superhero costume ran through the halls, yelling about pudding thieves. Russ felt the need to justify himself.
"The Dickens really are the best of the best. You can't have true genius without…"
"Eccentricity?" Agent K suggested as a massive anchor suspended like a chandelier crashed to the ground.
At last, the butler returned, bringing a red-haired woman with thick-rimmed glasses and a turtleneck.
"Phoebe Dickens?" Russ asked.
"I understand you wanted to see me?" She asked as she entered the hall. "This isn't about mother, is it?"
"Ah, no." Agent K replied, trying not to step onto the topic.
"Good." Phoebe sighed. "She's been fighting with the Commodore tooth and nail since she got parole. I was worried she might have been slipping into old habits."
"I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU! YOUR SELFISHNESS HAS TURNED THIS AGENCY INTO A… A HALFWAY HOUSE!" a booming voice bellowed from upstairs.
"IF YOU'D PAID MORE ATTENTION TO YOUR WIFE THAN YOUR NEMESES, MAYBE I WOULDN'T HAVE HAD TO!!!"
All present winced.
"So. If not mother… what do you want me for?" Phoebe asked.
"A promotion." Russ replied, flipping open his badge. "Agent Bob Russ, FBI. We've appreciated your coordination with us over the years. Now we want to make it official."
Phoebe looked on in shock. "I… I don't know what to say."
"Yes?" Agent K suggested.
"Father has never… approved of my relationship with the government…"
"WHY COULDN'T YOU EVER JUST LET THE FEDS DEAL WITH THE LATEST CRIME SPREE?"
"THOSE CORRUPT TOOTHLESS OLD FOGEYS? I'D SOONER TRUST RUDYARD ALONE WITH MY PUDDING!!!"
Russ gently cleared his throat. "Miss Dickens. When there's crime to be solved, there's no one like a Dickens. That's why we're here. I know you're out of business and… it didn't seem right for the family to languish in obscurity. We already know you're right for the job, Phoebe. Is it right for you?"
Phoebe seemed to consider for a few more moments. "Oh… I can't say no. Sleuthing is my life… everyone's life, here. It's in my blood. When do I start?"
"I'd say now-" Russ began.
"But I don't think Russ fancies trying to fit two women on the same motorcycle." Agent K interjected.
Russ frowned.
"We'll be in touch."
Agent K paused as they walked out of the mansion.
"...I think I left the stove on."
---
Miles away, a driverless white convertible pulls up to a flaming house.
"I left for two hours!" it complained in a posh accent.
"...Oh well. Still better than the time she tried for a casserole."
---
Agent Russ has recruited two new hero units for the Federal Government!
Doofenshmirtz is now peripherally aware of the Dickens Detective Agency! New Personal Action unlocked!
US Government opinion of you slightly improved thanks to letting Russ handle other matters!
