Outlaw

I've been toying around with the idea for a Phineabella story based on Bullets in the Gun for a while, but it just didn't seem to work. I think Phineas and Isabella are just too good and…law-abiding…to work. Plus, I really can't see Isabella as a scantily clad dancer in some bar. But Vanessa totally works because, while she says she's not evil, she is a bit of a rebel. Ferb isn't an outlaw either, but he works with pretty much any personality you give him as long as he doesn't talk much, and because of the way the show portrays his head-over-heels (figuratively) love for Vanessa, he'll pretty much do anything she wants.

So, yeah, I think this works fairly well.

Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb.

This is AU where Ferb has never met Vanessa or any of the other characters aside from his immediate family before.

Chapter 1

I had a reputation for never staying very long

Just like a wild and restless drifter…like a cowboy in a song

The feeling of the open road. There's nothing like it, especially when the road is truly open, not clogged with other cars.

It's perfect.

That was the only thing on Ferb Fletcher's mind. Cruising down the road on his muted-red and black Harley-Davidson SPORTSTER 1200 CUSTOM, wind blowing through his green hair because he was too cool for a helmet, all was right with the world. The two lane highway was deserted. He'd passed a 1970 Ford Mustang going the opposite direction around noon and that was the only vehicle that he'd seen all day. The sun was halfway down the sky, so the air was cool, and the only sound was the steady growl of the Harley's engine.

Ferb rode around from town to town with no real goal other than to see what there was to see. Everything Ferb had to his name he kept in a saddle bag he had modified to fit the rear seat of his bike. He slept in motels at night and was on the road again the next morning, drifting from town to town with no destination and no real idea where he was going. It was a very simple life, but he loved it.

Ferb had no companions and hadn't seen his family in years. He had bought the bike and started aimlessly riding around the country several years ago, trying to find his purpose in life, not intending to separate himself from the world. But, as he aimlessly rode around the United States, Ferb began to embrace the life of a loner. Taking up drinking and adopting a pair of aviator sunglasses and a leather jacket and growing a stubbly beard, girls began to see him as mysterious. He picked up a confident walk which, combined with his usual stoic look and silence just screamed, "I am badass." The women swarmed, and that's when Ferb discovered the best part of being a free-drifting bachelor: the one night stand.

One day in Arkansas, Ferb had a frank misunderstanding of opinion with a drunken trucker and ended up in an intense bar fight. He escaped mostly unhurt, but decided it was time to add one more accessory to his tough-guy appearance. So, he found a little gun shop and bought an old .44 Colt. Sure, he could have bought a newer gun, but the old revolver just seemed to better fit his style. The only time he'd ever even fired it was when the store owner let him test it out, but it didn't matter. Having dead-eye aim was just one of Ferb's limitless talents.

And so, packing heat and enjoying the American Southwest, Ferb cruised through Arizona on the empty highway.

He glanced at the watch on his wrist. It was quarter to five, and Ferb was getting hungry. As it just so happened, a road sign announced an approaching exit a mile further ahead. Ferb had skipped lunch that day in favor of more riding, so he headed down the exit ramp without a second thought.

Finding a little saloon, Ferb parked his motorcycle. He glanced up at the sign, which read simply, "Buford's Place." Pushing open the doors, he found himself in a very drab bar. Little or no decoration enhanced the rickety wood floor and knotty walls and a thick layer of dust, probably from the desert sand, covered nearly everything. The only things in the building besides the tables and chairs and the bar was an aging jukebox and a little stage, lit by spotlights in the ceiling. A few derelict-looking bikers and truckers sat at the tables looking bored and swilling around their glasses of rum and bourbon.

Ferb walked up to the bar, his eyes narrow behind his sunglasses, and simply pointed to a bottle of whiskey on the top shelf. The bartender raised an skeptical eyebrow. Ferb extracted a few bills from his wallet and slapped them down on the bar. The bartender still looked suspicious, but snatched up the bills before grabbing the bottle and pouring a shot.

Ferb retreated to a table in the corner near the stage. Three shots later, music suddenly began to blast from unseen speakers. The bartender grabbed a microphone and spoke with little excitement, since there weren't many people to impress. "Alright, if I could direct your attention to the stage, I'd like to introduce your entertainment for the evening: the Lovely Desert Wind." Ferb blinked and looked around the bar. His eyes actually widened at what he saw. Walking toward him was without a doubt the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

She was nearly as tall as Ferb, which was impressive because Ferb was fairly tall himself. Her deep chestnut hair was long, flowing, and, Ferb could imagine, soft. In fact, the way her body curved, her entire figure could be described as "flowing." She dressed in a pair of extremely short cutoff jeans and a rather skimpy black bikini top, and high cowboy boots. But the thing that really captivated Ferb was her face. It was friendly, sweet, but she had a captivating, burning look in her blue eyes that gave away a wild side.

As she swayed toward the stage, Ferb thought he could actually see her sigh. She grabbed an untouched shot from one of the tables she passed and threw it back in one swift motion. The trucker she'd mooched it from said nothing. He just grinned at her smugly with a mouth full of cracked teeth. She paid no attention to him and continued walking.

The woman sashayed her way up the short stairs to the stage and began to dance. Sure, her dance was a show, supposed to be sexy, but though the movements flaunted her body, every motion was just as graceful and fluid as a ballerina. And Ferb was captivated.

When the performance ended, the bar patrons clapped, but six people applauding is hardly a standing ovation. Ferb jumped up from the table and fished a quarter from his pocket, heading for the jukebox.

She turned her head as the sound of an old, slow Johnny Cash song floated from the corner, a stark contrast to the fast, loud, Mexican salsa music she had just danced to. What she found was a rather mysterious but handsome man leaning against the jukebox, staring bleakly at her from behind mirrored sunglasses. She slowly walked toward him, no longer swinging her hips.

Through years of practice, Ferb had learned the trick to enticing a woman. All he had to do was stare at the girl he desired. Once she was enchanted by his tough, cryptic appearance and constant gaze and curiosity drew her closer, he'd deal the final blow. The one thing that would make them putty in his hands.

So when the dancing girl stopped in front of him, Ferb set the hook. He smiled. It was only a half smile, just enough, and sort of sly.

And boy did it work.

She practically dove forward and crashed her lips against his.

Bingo.

I met a dark haired beauty where the lay the whiskey down

In southern Arizona in a little boarder town

I know this chapter is rather short, but the next chapter should be longer because more stuff happens and there will actually be some dialogue.

Please review!