Episode 13-1: My Own Pup

McAllen, Texas: Hearth & Barker Residency

Freshly brewed coffee beans. Normal at last.

"Clyde?" I call, thankfully in my normal voice. The body-swap must've sorted itself out overnight. Though I will admit, I'm going to miss being as strong as Superman. I crawl out of bed lazily, following my nose to the kitchen, and letting the scent of the beans engulf me in a self-interpreted sanctuary.

There it is, sitting on the table like I expected it to be. Two steaming fresh, inviting mugs of coffee with the sugar and creamer right between them. My favorite way to begin the day. There's even someone sitting in the chair already, but it's not Clyde. It's Amelia.

"Um, hello?" I greet with some hesitation. "What are you doing here? Where's Clyde?"

"Well, good morning to you too, Troy. And I'm here because Clyde called me over to take a look at his molecules," She stretches her arm across the table, taking one of the mugs that were supposed to be mine and Clyde's, and taking a small sip from it. Guess it was too good to be true, thinking that things were going back to normal.

"Wait," I say while stepping further into the kitchen, "Clyde called you? Why, what's wrong with his body? Mine seems perfectly fine now," I pull out the chair across from her and take a seat. Just then, another person joins our little circle as he comes out of the bathroom; a short, messy-haired, angry-looking child asserts himself next to Amelia.

"Fix me!" he screams at her, thrashing his fists around in the air in a temper tantrum.

"Oh my," I giggle, getting up from my chair and reaching to pinch his cheeks, "aren't you just the cutest little-"

"Not in the mood, Troy!" he barks, stepping away from me. Yep, that's definitely the kid-version of Clyde. Now my little nickname for him fits even better! Poor pup can't catch a break. "Why isn't he different!?" he asks Amelia while pointing at me. She begins rubbing the sides of her head with her thumbs. I'm guessing she doesn't like kids very much.

"Clyde, please," she says, "calm down and drink your coffee. Besides, you already know that I can't stop the side effects, so just be glad I was able to fix you two in the first place. Now if that's all, I'll take my leave, considering that I can't help with how long it'll take for your structure to reset itself," She makes haste towards the door, not wanting to get another ear-full from the short-tempered pooch. Clyde reaches for the mug, but I move in swiftly and swipe it before he can even lay a finger on the handle.

"Whoa there, pup. This is a grown-up drink," I tease, sticking my tongue out at him. "Can you say coffee? C-O-F-F-"

"Shaddup! I'm the one who made it anyway!" he yells, jumping on the table to match my eye level.

"You're on the right track for a smacked bottom, mister!" I say sternly. He instinctively covers his rear with his hands, but quickly dismisses that gesture as he jumps off the table.

"This is not fair! Why am I six years old, but you're completely back to normal?"

I shrug my shoulders, "I dunno." There's something off about his mental state, "So you do retain your memory of the present, yet you still act like a child."

"It's weird," he begins, "it's like I can remember how I'm supposed to act, but this... child mentality is strong. I know how to behave, I do!"

My ears twitch at the sudden burst of his volume. "Easy there, you're yelling again."

"You see! It's like it comes out at random! One minute, I'm as normal as my old self, the next I'm screaming my head off like a proper child. I'll tell you one thing though, treating me like a kid is not helping!"

I smirk. "I wouldn't treat you like one if you didn't act like one." His only response is to pout silently and droop his tail in defeat. I have to admit, Kid Clyde is adorable, even when he's barking his head off. "Although, now I'm not so sure what our plan of action is for today. I can't take a kid out on a mission, they don't pay me enough to babysit."

"You don't have to babysit me, I can take care of myself," he protests.

I place the coffee back on the table and pat him on the head. "Of course you can, pup. Aw, one day you're going to grow up into a fine agent."

"I said stop that, Troy!"

"My, someone's a little fussy today. Do you need me to burp you?"

"I'm not a baby, I'm six years old! Let's just get back on the case, please."

"Oh alright. But first, say pretty please with a cherry on top!"

I think that last comment pushed him over the edge. He grabs the nearby chair by its legs, picking it up easily and hurling it right at me. It hits me in the chest with such force, the metal chair dents out of shape and sends me to the floor with a heavy thud. I place a hand over my chest, hoping not to find a shard of metal stuck in it. Clyde lets out a shriek of fear from his misguided actions.

I lay there waiting for the immense pain to take over my entire senses, but it never does. I feel completely unharmed like I am wearing the strongest armor when that chair hit me at 90 miles per hour. I don't feel a thing! I prop myself up on my elbows, watching Clyde wipe his tears away as he notices that I'm not bleeding profusely on the verge of death.

"I'm sorry!" he screams, "I didn't know! I'm so sorry! Please be okay!"

"Relax," I command, standing back up, "I'm completely fine." His small frame is shivering uncontrollably, and his nose drips with mucus. "You lost your years, but kept your strength. Not as defenseless as I thought."

He continues to wipe his tears and sniffle. "Are-are you indestructible now?"

I look at my arms and chest, still in disbelief to have survived such an attack without a scratch. "It looks that way. Awesome!"

"Great," he says, "I get to be a sniveling brat while you're bulletproof! Nothing is fair anymore!"

"Now, now. No more whining, we play the cards we're dealt with," I look at the clock hanging in the kitchen, noticing that the morning is almost up. I don't usually sleep for this long, and I'm not even sure what our next move is for today. "We should probably get dressed."

Clyde inspects the oversized pajamas draping off his small body. "I don't think I'm going to fit in my old clothes."

I smile warmly. "Does this mean that I'm gonna have to go get some toddler clothes for you?"

He frowns. "No! I'm not a toddler, I'm a big boy." Oh boy, I don't think I'm going to get used to that.

*** *** ***

Clyde promises to stay put at the hotel while I run this small errand for him. I've already made it across the parking lot when my phone lets out the tone for a text message. The contact is a flurry of numbers followed by the word, Unknown, in parenthesis. It's a rather strange contact for an agent of Ispio to get.

Hey there, cutie! How's about a hospital visit?

What? Who in the world would send this to me? I don't even understand the context of this. Even if it is the wrong number, what the hell is this hospital visit about? Is that like a threat or something? Maybe someone is asking their mate for a hospital visit? What kind of normal citizen has this type of number?

BANG!

The loud noise from behind me deafens my ears, and I feel immediate pressure on the middle of my back. Something small, the size of a bullet. I stumble forward slightly but remain unharmed from the failed attack.

"No way!" exclaims a voice behind the gun. I whip around quickly to come face-to-face with familiar green eyes and a chiseled jaw. "When did you get bulletproof skin?"

"Wha- Archer!?" I draw my gun quickly, not wanting to waste time trying to capture him alive. His talented maneuvers allowed him to put away his gun, disarm me in the blink of an eye, and take me down to the floor. He lets the magazine slip out of my gun and catches it in his other hand, unchamber the bullet I had in there, and throws the gun to one side of the parking lot while throwing the magazine to the other. He gives a kick to my knee that would normally shatter the kneecap and incapacitate me, but the atoms are on my side today. After he thinks I can't move, he speeds off to escape.

I quickly handspring up and give chase, not wanting to lose him after so many months of having a cold trail. He makes his way into the hotel that I just came out of, pushing open the doors aggressively and speeding through the lobby. I make it in right before the doors close, never losing sight of his signature black stealth suit.

Forgetting the stairs, Archer parkours his way up the wall and onto the second floor of the hotel. He turns around and leans on the railing, looking down at me as I stop and stare from below. "Damn, what the hell have they been feeding you in Texas!?"

I wink at him. "Are you saying that I'm gaining weight?"

He chuckles. "Guess the plan didn't go so well. Ah well, till next time my dear boy!"