Milkshakes for Two

Vanessa Doofenshmirtz had experienced some weird things in her sixteen years – most of them related to her father's evil schemes – but this was a completely new one. On the surface, it sounded like a fairly normal teenage activity: She was sitting next to a boy, perched on the hood of his hot rod, parked on the edge of a cliff, looking out on an expanse of twinkling lights, sipping a milkshake from the busy drive-in behind them. But the drive-in was called the Shooting Star Milkshake Bar, the milkshake was no flavor she could put a name to, the twinkling lights were stars and moons and comets, the cliff was the edge of an asteroid, the hot rod was a space ship, and the boy next to her was a green-haired ten-year-old. Yeah, this was definitely one for the weird list.

She couldn't help smiling at him, though, as she said, "Nice place you've got here, Ferb. And you're right, this shake is the best. What flavor is this?" She looked at the creamy, raspberry colored drink.

"What does it taste like?" was his reply.

"I don't know," she considered, taking another pull at her straw. "Kind of like dark chocolate and mocha… maybe a little caramel and marshmallow… What's it supposed to be?"

"Whatever you like." When she gave him a puzzled look, he explained, "The flavor is whatever you want it to be."

"Oh. Cool." She watched him take another drink from his own cup. "So, what does yours taste like?"

"Cherry fizz and vanilla with perhaps a soupçon of ginger beer," he decided.

Vanessa laughed under her breath at this. That serious voice, always deeper than she expected, with the British accent and the sophisticated vocabulary – Ferb certainly was unique. In a good way. She was glad they had run into each other today.

Vanessa had been walking from her father's building to the bus stop, still lamenting her lack of a car, when Ferb had pulled up to the curb in that crazy tricked-out flying ship of his and popped the canopy.

"May I offer you a lift?"

She had deliberated for only a moment before hopping in. "Thanks, Ferb. Wow, you've got a sweet ride," Vanessa had admired the interior as she buckled in.

"Well, strictly speaking, it's not mine. I made some modifications for a friend; he lets me borrow it now and then. Where are you going?"

"I don't know; home, I guess," she had grumbled, rolling her eyes. Spending the morning with Dad had been more trying than usual today.

"Would you object to making a stop on the way?" Ferb had proposed, glancing at her as he slipped on his sunglasses.

The look he had given her was cool beyond his years, but she thought there was a touch of bashfulness behind it, as well. What was it about this kid that always made her smile?

"So, Ferb," she ventured now, sitting outside the milkshake bar with him, "remember that day we ran into each other at the Megastore?"

"Yes. Yes, I do."

Vanessa caught the odd tone in his voice, soft and tight at the same time. He was careful not to look at her, as if he was afraid of revealing some flash of emotion. Like that would ever happen, thought Vanessa; Ferb always kept his cool, even in the midst of rescuing her from the blades of a rampaging lawn mower. She had some unfinished business with him from that day, and pressed ahead with it: "In the ball pit, you started to tell me what 'Ferb' was short for, but we got interrupted."

Now he turned to face her. No one else would have drawn anything from his still expression, but Vanessa couldn't help reading into it: No, you grabbed the pizzazium and ran away. Why did that look make her feel guilty? "Anyway – I've been wondering – what is Ferb short for?"

He smiled a little, as if anticipating her reaction. "Ferbouche."

Her nose wrinkled involuntarily, and her mouth scrunched up into a stifled laugh. "What?"

"Ferbouche," he repeated, pronouncing it with a slight French accent. "It's an old ancestral name. There was a Sir Ferbouche Fletcher who was knighted by Elizabeth the First for Heroic Service to the Crown. Apparently, he saved her lap dog from choking on a chicken bone." Ferb acknowledged the absurdity of this with a modest, sidelong glance.

"I like it," Vanessa considered, rolling it over in her mouth. "Ferbouche."

"I like it, too, when you say it," he confessed, blushing ever so slightly. "Phineas pronounces it 'fur-booch.'" Ferb nailed his brother's American accent before reverting to his natural voice. "It always makes me cringe a bit."

"Why doesn't Candace know your name?" Vanessa questioned him, and then admitted: "I brought it up to her once. You know, when we were stuck in the Himalayas." Whoa, she realized, for someone she hadn't spent all that much time with, she had been through some pretty crazy things with him.

"She never asked. Phineas knows it only because he read it on my adoption papers."

"You're adopted?"

"Well, yes, Mum adopted me when she and Dad were married, of course."

"Oh, yeah," this made sense now. "They're, like, your stepfamily. What happened to your real Mom?"

It was a poor choice of words, she realized, as Ferb tensed at once and said, tersely, "Linda is my real Mum."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way. I meant your…" she hesitated, searching for the right term, but her intent was clear.

He gazed into the remains of his milkshake for a moment before he answered. "I don't know what happened to her. She walked away from Dad and me before I was a year old."

"Oh, Ferb." Vanessa reached over and laid a hand on top of his, unsure of what to say. "That's awful."

He turned his hand palm up, and twined his fingers with hers as he murmured, "It was all for the best." Looking at her, he sighed. "Forgive me for snapping at you. It's not a topic I choose to speak about much."

"That's all right. I shouldn't have asked."

"No, no," he insisted, "I want you to feel you can ask me anything. Or tell me anything."

His earnest look struck right to her heart. She shouldn't have been surprised by it; she knew he had some sort of crush on her, it was no big deal – but, that wasn't a 'some sort of crush' look, it was an 'open your soul to me, trust me with your life' look, and the temptation to do just that made her feel suddenly weak. Vanessa untangled her fingers from his and said, "Thanks for the detour, Ferb. But I'd better get home."

He nodded. "Mum and Phineas will be back from the dentist soon. They'll wonder where I am."

As they strapped themselves into the cockpit, Vanessa said, "You know, this was fun. We should do this again some time."

Ferb put on his shades and smiled. "Yes. Yes, we should."

Author's note: Not my first fanfic, but my first P&F fanfic, and first fanfic on this site! Phineas & Ferb and all related characters, props, and locations belong to the awesome Dan Povenmire and Jeff "Swampy" Marsh. For a long time, I had a different idea as to Ferb's full name, but finally succumbed to accepting the "Beak" reference (and yes, I know it's spelled "Ferbooch" in the closed captions).