A/N: Okay, everyone, hi! This is my first story ever! It's just a stupid, probably-cliche lil one-shot that I might use in an actually story with chapters later on! But I think it's pretty okay for a first try, don't you guys? Ya know, if there's actually anybody out there reading this, which I strongly doubt. But you guys (you most-likely non-existent guys :P) probably don't want to hear me ramble on (do you? Seriously, I could use some help with this), so...on with my story, I guess. Enjoy!
I don't own Phineas and Ferb. They belong only to Dan Povenmire, Jeff "Swampy" Marsh, and Disney. Although, I did have this cool dream one time where I owned them... Anyhow, I don't own anything but the plot of this pathetic attempt at a fanfic.
Fairy Tale Ending
"Wow! That was absolutely amazing, Ferb!" I exclaimed. The sun was slowly setting, and Ferb and I's Big Idea of the day—a huge, mile high water slide with ice cream instead of water—and it had just randomly disappeared as it always did. Today, it had been a herd of angry zebras trampling it into the underground kingdom of the mole people. Even when we were all sixteen as we were now, none of the gang—Ferb, Isabella, Buford, Baljeet, and I—had ever seen an invention last more than a day. Something weird always happened to it, or we'd end up giving it away to someone who needed it.
Ferb, who was standing next to the spot where the water slide had previously been, nodded at me, and looked over at the house. I understood; he wanted to take a shower. His purple bathing suit and hair were both coated in vanilla ice cream, his favorite flavor. "I'll be inside in a little while, Ferb," I told him. "I'm just going to spray down the yard to get rid of the melted ice cream."
"I'll help," Isabella volunteered. Her light pink bikini showed off her chocolate and strawberry ice cream-covered figure beautifully, and her water-proof black mascara made her sapphire eyes pop. Her shiny midnight hair was still absolutely perfect, although it was coated with rapidly melting frozen yogurt. Somehow, she still managed to pull of looking amazing covered in frozen dairy. I knew I shouldn't be thinking about Isabella this way—she was my best friend and had been since we were born—but I couldn't help it sometimes.
"I'll stay and clean too," Baljeet said, trying to be helpful.
"Oh, no you won't," Buford growled. "Buford's got a canasta game, and you've got to be there to distract my opponents with your math-ish words of confusion and mind pain."
"Buford," Baljeet said, exasperated. "You don't have to talk in the third person; we all know who you are. And that phrase made no sense!"
"Buford doesn't care, runt," Buford proceeded to grab Baljeet's leg and hold him upside-down, carrying him out of my backyard.
"Bye, Phineas and Isabella!" Baljeet called.
"Au revoir, Dinner Bell, Girly," Buford acknowledged us in a perfect French accent.
"Buford, you speak French?" I asked, flabbergasted.
"No," he answered quickly, at the same moment that an upside-down Baljeet tried to say "yes"—before he was cut off by Buford's meaty hand over his mouth. "Bye!" Buford yelled quickly, dashing out of the backyard with Baljeet in tow.
"That was weird," I said to Isabella. "So, you're helping?"
"Yeah, I guess it's just you and me cleaning up, Phineas," Isabella said. She didn't sound very unhappy.
"Yup," I agreed. "We'd better get going; Mom and Dad said they'd be getting home from the airport around midnight, and it's already close to nine thirty. I want them to be able to come home to a clean—" I was cut off by a jet of water to the face. Isabella had been tinkering with the hose, which had been stuck for some reason. It seemed she'd gotten it unstuck just in time to splash me.
"Phineas, I'm so sorry!" She cried. "I didn't mean to—it just sprayed randomly—Ahh!" I grabbed the hose from her grasp and sprayed her legs, causing her to jump. "Phineas, that water is freezing!" She giggled, shivering but still smiling.
"You started it," I grinned.
"Oh, you're on," She raised an eyebrow and grabbed another hose, immediately catching me in the back as I tried to turn away and avoid the cold liquid. We spent the next half hour alternating between cleaning up the backyard and soaking each other. When the backyard—and our chilly bodies—were finally devoid of ice cream, I ran over and turned off the hoses before Isabella could splash me again.
"No fair," she pouted, but she was still holding back giggles.
"We're done!" I protested. "We don't want to waste water!"
"Fine," she teased. "But now I'm cold. If I'm not wet, I'm cold."
"I can fix that." I ran over and grasped her in a tight hug.
"Eeeeeek! Phineas, you're cold and wet too!" She exclaimed, trying to pull away while falling over from laughter. I held her tight.
"We can keep each other warm," I grinned, and refused to let go. We wrestled happily until we finally ended up in the driveway. "You dry now?" I asked her, chuckling.
"Actually, we both are," she said, surprised. She looked herself over, and then looked over me, searching for wetness on our bathing suits but found none. "I guess your unconventional drying-off methods are quite effective, good sir," she giggled, trying to sound official.
"I did warn you, madam," I mimicked her tone. We laughed for a few more seconds.
"Well, I guess I'd better be going," she said regretfully, watching as the last remains of the sun begin to set. "My mom wants me home by ten."
"Yeah," I replied. Suddenly, I wasn't laughing anymore. Neither was she—it was like the moment she had to leave, all of our excitement had just been sucked out of us, somehow. She looked at her house with a slightly sad expression.
"Bye Phineas," She had been looking down, quieting her last bursts of giggling, but she turned her face upwards to address me; over the years, I had grown almost half of a foot taller than her, although she used to tower over me.
I suddenly noticed that the sun had gone completely down, and stars shimmered down on us, making Isabella look an almost unworldly type of beautiful, as though she had been bathed in moonlight. Her eyes were the most breath-taking things I had ever seen; sparkling in every shade of blue from stunning sapphire to deep azure.
"Bye, Isabella," I managed, abruptly mesmerized by those eyes. I couldn't seem to look away, although I was desperately trying. She was staring at me too, her smile gone, and I think she was having the same problem with turning away. Her eyes were filled with wonder. "Bye," I said again, but she didn't seem to be leaving. Neither was I.
For a while, we were just still.
"Phineas," she whispered, looking almost sad. She raised her hand as if to touch my face, but dropped it at the last second. She broke the gaze bonding us together, looking down. I could have sworn I saw tears in her eyes. I suddenly felt almost empty; like that look with Isabella had filled up some hole in me that I didn't know was there. "I, um, need to go," she mumbled, obviously lying. She turned away from me, towards the street, and started walking. I didn't move. She paused for a moment at the edge of my driveway, and seemed to have some kind of internal argument—she eventually turned her head back to me. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said. I could see wet little trails running down her face and glistening in the pale light, a sure sign that she had been crying. Had I caused that? But why would our fun make her cry? Maybe it wasn't that…maybe, it was because she was leaving? Leaving me?
"Yeah, I'm looking forward to it," I managed a response to her farewell. She looked at me a moment more before apparently bracing herself and running back over to me. I took a step towards her, not sure what I was going to do, but I didn't have time to think. She surprised me. She didn't stop when she was close enough to talk easily, or even close enough for another hug. She kissed me on the cheek.
"I'll um, go now," she whispered, and, before I could reply, she ran across the street to her house. I lost her in the shadows. I uncertainly touched my cheek; it was tingling. I could still feel her warm lips on it.
"What was that?" I whispered to myself. I felt…happy. Tingly. Like the world couldn't be more perfect. I suddenly started thinking; if it felt that good on my cheek, what would it be like on my lips…? "Stop it, Phineas!" I scolded myself. "She's only your best friend…isn't she?"
I turned to go back into the house, but my foot hit something. I groped in the darkness at my feet for a moment before pulling up a tan and pink flip-flop—one of Isabella's favorite shoes. She had actually left her shoe here, just like in that princess fairy tale, Cinderella. Ha, I thought, Cinderella, Cinder-Bella. It's almost like Isabella is Cinderella. But then, if she's the princess, than who's going to be her Prince Charming?
I slowly looked down at myself. I didn't look much like a Prince Charming. I wore nothing but rumpled orange swim trunks and leather sandals. My hair was probably a mess; it was always a mess, but today it was also coated with ice cream and water. My fingers looked like crinkled-up prunes from being wet so long. My nails were chipped from building every day, and from the occasional mis-aim of a hammer. My lips were probably blue from being completely soaked in the rapidly decreasing temperatures out here. But somehow, looking back over the years I've spent with Isabella, I didn't think she'd mind any of that. She seemed to love me—at least as a friend—no matter what my faults were. Maybe even as more than a friend. And maybe I loved her in the same way—much more than a friend should love another.
I know what I'm going to do tomorrow, I thought to myself, holding up the pink shoe in the moonlight. I would return my princess' shoe. I might even make a whole "Cinderella" deal with it, placing it on her foot myself. I certainly wasn't going to ask her to marry me like in the story. But I might be able to start something. I could start something I didn't even realize I wanted to start, but I had for years in secret, a secret I had kept even from myself. I'll admit that I didn't know anything about love, or really even fairy tale endings. But I don't need to, I thought, looking over at the lights in Isabella's window. I imagined her face, and knew she wouldn't care if I knew absolutely nothing. Don't worry, Isabella, I saw her stick her face through her curtains from her room across the street and see me, but I didn't care. She waved slightly and gave me a sheepish half-smile, the same look in her eyes. I waved, carefully hiding the shoe behind my back for the next day, before turning and heading back inside. Isabella, even if I'm the most stupid boy on Earth when it comes to romance, I'll always have you to help me.
A/N: Yup, non-existent peoples, it's me again. I just keep popping up, don't I? So, believe it or not, I started writing PnF Phinbella fanfics a long time ago, before I even realized that other people did it too and I wasn't crazy and there were places to stick these things and whatnot. So, I've actually got a bunch of half-finished ones on Word. Make sure you keep your eyes out for new stories from this girl, if you people really are alive and out there. (BTW, if people really do exist and like..or actually hate, too...my stories, then review. Please! I'm asking you super nicely!)
So, I guess that's it. I can't thank people for reviews like I see sometimes because I'm currently review-less. I can't give you hints about the next chapter because this is a one shot. I could make up a cool sign off thingy for myself...light bulb! I'm gonna make a sign off thingy! Hmm, let's try some out...
Summer Belongs to You? I would, but it's so cliched
That's all folks? No, that one's copyrighted
Oooh! I think I've got one! Okay, prepare yourselves...
Byee everybody!(But remember, it might change; I'm open to more, ah, clever suggestions)
-Cutie
