Author's Note: I'll get back to this one, if there's interest, once I'm done with Martian Manhunter. It's set randomly post-season-& Buffy, at no particular time in P&F continuity, and is a response to the "To Boldly Go" Challenge.

Buffy was created by Joss Whedon. Phineas and Ferb was created by Dan Povenmire and Jeff "Swampy" Marsh.


Phineas Flynn and Ferb Fletcher stood in the bathroom brushing their teeth while they discussed what they were going to do today.

"Clone a couple of mastodons?" Phineas asked.

Ferb shook his head.

Phineas said, "Right. It's summer and it's probably way too hot for them. Hey! I know! We could test out those jetpacks we built yesterday!"

Ferb nodded, reluctantly.

"Yeah. That's not enough by itself. We need to test them by using them to do something else. Any ideas?"

Ferb shrugged.

"That's okay," Phineas said. "I'm sure we'll come up with something. We always do!"

Right then, there was a pounding on the door. "Are you done in there yet? I have to look nice in case Jeremy calls!"

The brothers left the room and headed downstairs, oblivious to the glare of their sister. They didn't have much time to talk about their day's plans while they were eating. Perry, their pet platypus, wandered by and chittered.

Once they were done, Phineas realized something. "Say, Dad, aren't you usually gone by now?"

"Usually, yes, I am," Lawrence Fletcher said. "But today I'm taking a day off. An old friend of mine from England is coming in and he may be offering me a chance to do some real old-fashioned treasure hunting."

"Cool!" Phineas said. "Hey, Ferb! I know what we're going to do today!"

Ferb, the man of action as always, looked at his brother quizzically.

"We're going to explore the caves outside of Danville."

"Oooh," Linda Flynn said. "Aren't those dangerous?"

"Dad?" Phineas asked.

"Oh, not at all. They've got a park ranger there and everything. Doesn't let people go in more than a hundred feet or so. It's all well-lit."

"Oh, well, I suppose that's alright. Have fun, boys!"

"Where's Perry?"


The monotreme in question had slipped away during breakfast and taken his usual secret passage to the underground lair. He plopped out of the tube and landed normally, then walked over to the view screen.

Where was his chair?

As he wondered, the giant-screen monitor came on, and Major Monogram appeared. "Agent P!" the major said. "Sorry about that. We're having all the chairs oiled and we didn't get yours back in time. But you know you can't rush these things, not if you want to get rid of that infernal squeaking. Annoying as anything."

Noting Perry's steady, moderately annoyed gaze -- since the platypus couldn't talk and had never learned sign language, he was more or less limited to communicating via glare and stare and had really become quite good at that -- Major Monogram said, "But enough about that. It's Dr. Doofenshmirtz again. He's purchased almost all the garlic in the tri-state area. Italian restaurants are going out of business -- and my wife and I have reservations tonight at Giacomo's. It's our anniversary, so I don't want to disappoint her. Not like last year, when someone forgot to order those flowers."

"Sorry, sir!" Carl's high-pitched voice came from offscreen.

"Had to sleep on the couch for a week. I don't want that to happen again. Find Doofenshmirtz and make sure that garlic gets to those restaurants. We're all counting on you, Agent P. Good luck."

The screen clicked off. Seconds later, Perry was flying through the air using a rocket-powered hang glider.

Next stop: The not particularly secret headquarters of Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz.


First Linda had left; off to her cooking class again, Lawrence supposed. Then the boys, off to their big adventure, exploring the Danville Caverns. Seemed like an awfully big walk, but boys would be boys, after all.

Then Candace. When Lawrence had asked, "Where are you going, sweetheart?" she'd muttered "Have to bust them. Have to bust them." before running out and, apparently, chasing after the boys on her bike.

"Be careful, sweetheart!" He yelled after her, and was just about to sit down to read the morning newspaper when he heard a knock on the door. Opening it, he grinned.

"Lawrence!" the man said. "Good to see you."

"Rupert," Lawrence said. "The same. I'm so glad that you managed to survive those Bringers. Nasty, nasty business." He stepped back and allowed Rupert and his companion -- a young blonde woman, in her early 20's, Lawrence guessed -- to enter. He carefully did not invite them in. "Too bad so many of our colleagues can't say the same."

The blonde said, "How'd you get away?"

"Lawrence," Rupert said, "Was never actually a Watcher. His archaeological skills proved invaluable at times, but we could never convince him to join up."

"And the Bringers were going after actual Watchers and Slayers. Not the contract employees," the blonde said.

"Right," Lawrence said. "Fortunate for me. Not so much for the rest of you." They walked into the living room. "Rupert, would you and your -- um --"

Rupert said, "Sorry, I forgot to introduce you. Lawrence Fletcher., this is Buffy Summers, the chief Slayer. Buffy, this is Lawrence Fletcher, whose archaeological skills have proven invaluable to the Council; at times."

Lawrence shook Buffy's hand. "Nice to meet you, my dear, and my apologies for not recognizing you from Rupert's glowing descriptions."

Buffy looked at Rupert. "Glowing?"

"Well, um --"

"Because the way you described it to me was less 'glowing' and more 'flickering 25-watt bulb."

"Well, um --"

Lawrence saved Rupert from answering when he said, "In any event, I was about to ask you if either of you would like any tea? I know you can't get it made in the authentic fashion too often, Rupert."

"I should say not. While I have developed something of a tolerance for coffee I can never truly appreciate it the way I do well-made tea."

"Miss Summers?"

"No thanks," Buffy said. "I'm more or less the same way in reverse."

"Right! I'll be back in a flash!"

Authentic tea, already, and it wasn't even 9 AM.

This day was shaping up nicely so far.