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💋 with Fidds and Stan in the Spy au, like Ford would go with Fidds if he could but his skills are needed elsewhere for this mission, which takes place at some pride event (which could secretly be the location of where an important package is to be exchanged). Also Angie getting a kick seeing Stan all glamoured up in colours, which Stan isn't a big fan of at all

💋 - Pretend Couple

I’m gonna pretend that the reason I’m posting this now isn’t because I procrastinate, but rather because I was waiting to post it until Pride month. Here you go. Some very timely spy stuff.

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“Give mea second,” Ford said, holding up a finger. He dug around in his back pocket, pulled out his phone, and took apicture of Stan. “Perfect.”

“What areyou doing?” Stan asked. He scratched hisarm. “Damn, these sequins areitchy.” Ford sniggered. “What’s so funny?”

“You’redressed up in sequins and Day-Glo colors, Stanley. There’s nothing about this situation thatisn’t funny.” Ford tapped on his phone afew times. “There. That should cheer Angie up.” Stan gestured to Fiddleford, who was deckedout in a similar outfit.

“Youdidn’t laugh when you saw him! Fiddlesticks doesn’t dress up like this either!”

“That youknow of,” Ford said quietly. Stan staredat Fiddleford.

“Really?”he asked. Fiddleford turned as red ashis flamboyant scarf.

“Stanford,we should get goin’. Finish the missionas soon as possible. I’m sure Stan wouldlike to get back to his fam’ly.”

“Yes,yes,” Ford said. “We should-” The theme from Star Wars began to play. “Oh. One moment.” Ford tapped on his phoneagain. “You’re on speaker.”

“That wasthe best thing I’ve seen all week!”Angie’s voice shouted exuberantly. “Oh,Lord, that almost makes up fer bein’ benched from field missions fer the nextnine months.”

“Have youshown the girls yet?” Ford asked.

“I didn’tthink of that! I’m goin’ to do that!”

“Angie-”Stan started.

“Darlin’,let me have my amusements where I can,” Angie said. “And don’t pretend like ya wouldn’t have theexact same reaction if Stanford was the one in that getup.”

“Yeah, well,it shoulda been him in the sequins,” Stan muttered. Ford frowned at Stan. “I know, I know. You’re benched from field missions, too.”

“Not allfield missions. Just ones involvingcrowds,” Ford corrected. “The lastmission I went on was…difficult.”

“No,Apple, don’t-” Angie’s voice came over the phone. She let out a loud sigh. “I got to go. The dog’s gettin’ into stuff. Have fun on the mission. Bringback souvenirs.”

“Goodbye,Angie,” Ford said. Angie hung up. Ford put his phone back into his pocket andpicked up the manila folder he had set down to grab his phone. “All right. The debriefing can continue.”

“Great,”Stan said, scratching his leg. “Whatexactly are we doing?” Ford opened thefolder.

“You willbe picking up an important package at the Pride celebration,” he explained,skimming the contents of the folder. “Try to blend in with the crowds both before and after you haveretrieved the package. Let us know whenyou have the package in your possession, head to the corner of Mayer andGarfield, and wait for extraction.”

“Soundseasy enough,” Fiddleford said.

“It’smost certainly easier than some of the previous missions, yes. Your cover, as minor as it may be, is thatyou are a couple.” Ford closed thefolder. “If you wish, you can use falsenames, should you have to call for each other in the crowd.”

“Allright, well, I’ll be Tyson, then,” Stan said.

“Clark,”Fiddleford said. Stan squinted at him.

“How manygay guys named Clark have you actually met?” he asked.

“Three.”

“Wait,really?”

“Theywere all paramours of Lute’s at some point,” Fiddleford said with a shrug. He grimaced. “Oh. Lute’s in town. Do we have to worry about him attendin’ thecelebration?”

“No. Angie’s already sent him on an errand runthat should take a few hours. Themission should be finished by the time he returns with what she asked him toget.”

“What didshe ask him to pick up?” Stan asked, curious despite himself. Ford furrowed his brow.

“I thinkshe claimed to have a craving for a very specific specialty food. I can’t remember what, but it’s onlyavailable in a few stores far from where the celebration will be.” Ford shrugged. “But that’s not relevant to the mission. You best head out now to beat the crowds. And…” A twinkle appeared in Ford’s eye. “Have a gay old time.”

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“Allright, package received, heading to the drop-off location,” Stan said, stuffingthe item – which was much smaller than he’d expected – into his fanny pack.

“Excellent. Be sure not to lose track of it,” Fordreplied over the earpiece.

“Won’t bea problem, thanks to whoever came up with these outfits. I mean, I’m not exactly the most fashionforward person, but even I know fanny packs look awful,” Stan grumbled.

“I thinkfanny packs are cute,” Fiddleford piped up. Stan rolled his eyes.

“Ofcourse you do.” Stan peered around thecorner of the alleyway entrance. “Coast’sclear. Let’s get this over with.”

“Ahem.” At the sound of Fiddleford clearing histhroat, Stan looked over. Fiddlefordheld out a hand. Stan groaned loudly.

“C’mon, man.”

“It’s ferthe mission,” Fiddleford hissed.

“Are yousure you don’t secretly have a crush on me, Fiddlesticks?”

“Yermarried to my younger sister!”

“That’snot a no.”

“Fercryin’ out loud,” Fiddleford muttered, grabbing Stan’s hand. He pulled Stan out of the alleyway. They were immediately assaulted by the joyousshouts and thumping music of the celebration. They began to walk down the sidewalk, heading for the drop-off. Stan’s scowl grew worse with every step.

“Ford,did the people who came up with these costumes ever actually go to Pride?”he hissed. “Because there are plenty ofpeople in plain T-shirts. Seems likethese outfits are only less attention-grabbing here than they would be on anormal fucking day.” There was noresponse over the earpiece. “Ford?”

“He’sprob’ly not responding ‘cause yer throwin’ a temper tantrum over somethin’ hecouldn’t control,” Fiddleford said quietly.

“Dude, Ihave two kids. I know what a tempertantrum looks like. I was not having atemper tantrum.”

“Whateverya-” Fiddleford stopped abruptly. “Hang on, do ya hear that?” Stan stopped as well and strained his ears todistinguish any single thing from the joyful cacophony surrounding them. A familiar voice carried above the noise.

“-well, I’ms’pposed to be runnin’ an errand fer my sister, but it’s not that pressin’, soI figured I’d stop by the celebration on my way.” Stan and Fiddleford exchanged a panickedlook.

“Lute!”they whispered.

“Pfft, nah,I checked with her to make sure it wasn’t time-sensitive,” Lute continued. His voice was getting louder. Presumably, because he was getting closer. “She made me promise to pick up a couplesouvenirs fer my adorable nieces, but since I was already here, she couldn’treally tell me not to come. Rushed meoff the phone, though. Somethin’ ‘boutthe dog bein’ trouble, I think.”

“So thatexplains why you aren’t all dressed up like you usually are for Pride,” asecond voice said. Lute and whoever hewas with were getting closer by the second. Fiddleford looked around frantically.

“There’snowhere to go, the crowd’s too thick!”

“Justcalm down, act normal,” Stan hissed at him. “Maybe he won’t see us.”

“Usually,you’re dressed up like those two over there,” the second voice said. Stan and Fiddleford looked over. Standing across the street was Lute,accompanied by a man much taller than him, wearing a tanktop with multiple heartsemblazoned on it in a rainbow color scheme. The man was pointing at Stan and Fiddleford. Lute looked in their direction. He frowned.

“Yeah, I…hangon.” Lute stepped into the street. Panicking, Stan grabbed Fiddleford andplanted a kiss on his lips. Fiddleford’seyes bulged. “…Oh. Never mind.”

“What?”Lute’s companion asked.

“Theylooked familiar, but I must’ve been imaginin’ it. Let’s go find some of those lil flags. I bet Fidds would want one.” Lute and his companion disappeared into thecrowd. Fiddleford pulled away from Stan,his face beet red.

“StanleyPines-” he started. Ford’s voicecrackled over their earpieces.

“Fidds,Stan, be careful, Lute’s at Pride!”

“No shit,Sixer,” Stan growled. “We just saw himwith his lay of the week.”

“…Oh. He didn’t see you, right?”

“Right,”Fiddleford said. His cheeks were stillred, but beginning to return to their normal color.

“Why thehell didn’t you tell us earlier?” Stan demanded.

“I didn’tknow! I just got off the phone withAngie. Lute decided to stop at Pridebefore he went on the errand, and he only told her after he had arrived, so shecouldn’t tell him not to.”

“We know,”Fiddleford said in an undertone. “Weheard him talkin’ to the feller he was with. Even in this crowd, his voice carries.”

“Well…” Ford seemed at a loss for words. He cleared his throat. “Continue to the drop-off point, and make itfast. Lute might double back and see thetwo of you.”

“Yep,”Stan ground out. He grabbed Fiddleford’shand and began to drag him towards the drop-off point. “Fiddlesticks, you better not say a wordabout-”

“Do yareally think I’d mention it?” Fiddleford replied tartly. “It weren’t exactly somethin’ I’ll rememberfondly later.”

“Yeah,yeah.” Stan glanced at Fiddlefordmomentarily. “I won’t either. You’re not a very good kisser.” Fiddleford’s face turned red again.

“…Stanley?”Ford asked over the earpieces. Stan winced.

“Yeah?”

“Wouldyou mind repeating that? And elaborating? I’m very curious as to how you’ve concludedmy boyfriend is not good at kissing.”