A/N: Well, I got a pretty underwhelming response to my last chapter * sniff *, but I've got high hopes for this one. Big thanks to my lone reviewer, PFTones3482— I wish I could have given Ferb a bigger part in the last chapter, but don't worry, he'll be back ;)

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Except a Perry the Platypus t-shirt, does that count?

The volume of the crowd overwhelmed them, so much that they didn't notice the sounds emanating from the maintenance closet a few feet away. Baljeet reached for the handle, hesitating only briefly because of the shivers sent up his spine when Buford's rough fingers needed themselves through the holes in his shirt. When he did open the door, they stopped in their tracks, jarred by what greeted them. They caught only a glace of the pair inside, but it was enough. A shirtless Ferb, with one arm wrapped around the busty blonde, her left leg hitched up around his hip (she wore nothing but an animal print bra and a black, leather skirt) glared daggers at the intruder with make-up smudged eyes. He quickly snapped the door shut, leaving the men on the other side in momentary shock.

The incident (which hardly lasted more than a second) seemed enough to bring them both crashing back into reality. Baljeet released Buford's hand, prompting the larger boy to take a hasty step away. They did not make eye contact; instead just stood there, staring at the closed door (the girl's giggles could be heard from outside), processing what they'd been about to do.

Baljeet was the first to move. He turned on his heel and walked away, back towards the direction of the stage, with no acknowledgement of the man behind him. Buford keep his gaze averted, and when Baljeet had disappeared completely behind a curtain, he took several steps back, until he leaned against the wall opposite the closet. He felt a certain heaviness drag him to the ground, and he sat, one hand running through his hair, gel and sweat matting it down, the other resting on his knee. Suddenly, a rush of anger and frustration blew through him. He began to tug on his hair violently, and with his other hand he made a fist and threw a ferocious punch back into the dry wall behind him, leaving a sizable hole. Not that it mattered, away. The stage would be gone by the time the concert ended, just like everything that was ever built or ever happened in the Flynn-Fletcher backyard.

Just like Baljeet.

Soon, the lights flicked back into existence, followed by cheers from the audience and the crew. Phineas could be heard over the crowd, announcing that the intermission was ending and the show would soon resume. Buford returned to the stage, head down.

For the rest of the show, none of the three boys involved in "the closet incident" (as it would come to be known in each of their minds, for more reasons than one) made eye contact. They finished their set— in a much more subdued manner than before— and exited backstage, Baljeet and Buford with their eyes trained on the ground, Ferb looking straight ahead.

Phineas, of course, was completely oblivious to the tension between his companions. He spouted off enthusiastically with details about how their day was so amazing and that everyone thought they had "totally rocking songs".

"…I'm glad I found that switch in time. I don't know if the audience would have waited through a much longer intermission. Still, it's so weird how the lights just cut out like that…" He glanced at Ferb, who shrugged. Baljeet almostlaughed, remembering Ferb's interest in the lighting earlier that day.

Somewhere between Phineas' excited ramblings and Isabella's enthusiastic greeting of the band, Buford ducked out the back entrance. He breathed in deeply, relishing in the cool night air, the noise behind him fading as the crowd slowly departed. After a moment, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Absentmindedly, he selected one from the carton and rolled it between his thumb and index finger, like he was examining it before he brought it to his mouth. He leaned against the back wall as he lit it and took a long drag.

"Those things will kill you, you know."

The voice startled him, but only briefly, as he recognized its owner. Buford tapped the cigarette pack against the wall, allowing one to separate, and then offered it to the boy next to him.

Ferb accepted, and pulled out a lighter of his own, the Union Jack design visible even in the dim lighting. The pair smoked in silence for several minutes, before Buford decided he couldn't stand it much longer.

"Have you always smoked?" he asked, not quite ready to address the elephant in the room. "Or only after…?" Ferb nodded, acknowledging the latter. There was a pause, then Buford let out a guffaw. "Well, shit, Fletcher! We all know you're a man of action, but…" Suddenly, Buford found the situation incredibly funny. He was almost doubled over with laughter, while Ferb remained stoically silent, a faint smile gracing his lips. When Buford finally calmed down a bit, he turned to look at his friend. "So, who is she?" he asked, but Ferb merely shrugged, triggering more laughter from his companion.

After a moment, Buford took a deep breath, back against the wall, and put the cigarette to his lips again. "Sorry about that," he said quietly, sincerity in his voice. "We didn't know…" He let the sentence trail off, his previous apprehensions returning.

Ferb's cigarette dangled from between his index and middle finger, he let it drop, and crushed it with his heel. He remained where he was, however, in effect prompting Buford to continue talking.

"I'm not…ya know…" He shook his head and took a final drag, then pinched the crimson end between his thumb and index finger, extinguishing the light before tossing it a few feet away. He let out an exasperated sign. "Shit." He muttered. "What am I gonna do?" Ferb blinked at him, his luminescent eyes the only visible feature in the darkness. Buford ran his fingers through his hair, making it stick up in all directions. "Maybe it's better if this never happened," he said, then with a hint of aggression, "You won't say nothin'? Would ya?" Ferb shook his head and looked away. "Good."

Another long silence followed. Buford knew Ferb was holding back. He'd never been one to interfere. He gave his advice sparingly and with great care. But it was possible, he figured, that Ferb wasn't saying anything because he didn't have anything to say. Perhaps he couldn't give any advice in this situation. Buford would have to figure this out on his own.

Or maybe, Buford reflected, he was already supposed to know what to do, and Ferb wasn't just gonna spell out the obvious.

"Shit," he muttered once more, pulling out another cigarette. Ferb watched quietly as Buford lit up, then inhaled so deep his eyes began to water. Finally, he let it out in a dramatic burst, the smoke curling upward into the night.

A/N: Weeeeelllll? I really enjoyed writing this chapter. I know, I got really artsy (and angsty) with it, lol. And might I add: go Ferb? But, seriously, I'm really curious to hear what you guys think! Did you like it? OOC? Was it a stretch? So pretty, pretty, pretty please with a platypus on top—review!