AN:

Yes! Yes, I do in fact realize how horrible of a person I am. I've gone a month without writing. I have my reasons. But then, that's none of your beeswax, is it, dear reader? O.o

Just so y'all know, I'm going to start writing the date when each chapter takes place at the top, for reference. Also, it will help me keep track of my own mind. Let's say school got out and the first chapter happened on June 7th of this year, 2013.

This chapter is not proofread. Don't hate.

DISCLAIMER: For the somethingth time, I don't own P&F.

Monday, July 1st, 2013

The Craft had been unfurled from its storage cube form and prepped for flight at 7 in the morning. By 7:15 we were ready for departure, which had been scheduled for 7:30. By 7:31, Isabella still had yet to show up.

"Calm down, or you're going to wear a track in the lawn." Ferb muttered absently as he passed me on his way into the Craft. I had been pacing for about ten minutes without realizing it. I sat down against the house and ran my fingers, frustrated, through my bright red hair. This wasn't like Isabella! She was always wherever she needed to be at least 15 minutes before she had to. Something had to be wrong. She would never be this late! Even if it was just a minute.

"That's it. I'm going to go check on her," I called out to my brother and stood. I jogged across the street and knocked on the door. When there was no answer, it took me another moment to remember that Isabella's parents had left two days ago to visit family in Chicago. My worry grew as the silence after my knock stretched on. Eventually my concern became too great and I went for the spare key that I didn't know about as far as Mrs. Garcia-Shapiro was concerned. Feeling like a complete creep, I walked around the house, listening for any signs of life. Pinky ran up to me barking when I reached the kitchen, so any attempt at a stealth mission was ruined. Don't misunderstand, Pinky liked me, which was unusual, but he still barked. It just meant he was glad to see me.

The Chihuahua had come from Isabella's room, so I made my way to her end of the house, dog yapping at my heels all the way. I came to appreciate this seconds later, however, because my panic was lifted as a result.

"Pinky, what in the name of..." Isabella's groggy voice came from her bedroom. "Pinky! Stop barking! I'm trying to sleep, baby."

I snickered quietly as I picked the little dog up and headed for the laundry room where his food dish was kept. I filled it and place him, now quite content, in front of the kibble before returning to Isabella's room. I opened the door silently and saw my best friend curled into a ball on her bed with her back to me. The long black tangle of her hair was splayed across the pillow and I could hear her familiar, faint snoring. Careful not to disturb her, I sat on the bed and stroked her hair gently, like I always did to wake her up.

"Isabella," I whispered gently, leaning in close to her ear. "Did you forget the date?"

"Oh, Phineas," she mumbled. Her eyes were still closed, but she was smiling softly. "How could I ever forget our date night?" She rolled over and grabbed my hand, seeming to sink back into her dreams.

I scratched my ear. "Um, Isabella, it's morning, not night. You need to get up, sleepyhead, we're all waiting on you. We're expected in London in six hours, and I don't think you'd like to be late."

Late. That's what seemed to bring her to. Her eyes flashed open, wild.

"Phineas?" She noticed her grasp on my and let go, scooting into a sitting position. "Phineas, what time is it?"

I glanced at her wall clock. "About 7:40."

Her hand flew to her mouth. "We're behind schedule! We have to leave now." She jumped out of bed and dashed to her vanity to try and force her hair into submission. "Shoot, I don't have time for this." She spun to face me. "This is crazy. I can't get ready to leave this fast!"

I shook my head. "Don't worry about it. You can get ready on the craft."

She nodded, but her brow was still pinched. "Oh, okay. Just let me remind Gretchen of a few things first." She whipped out her phone and started typing wildly, but I strode over and took it from her. I pulled her to her feet and down the hall by her hand.

"I said not to worry. Gretchen knows what she's doing."

"Right, right, of course." She nodded, but I could see that she wasn't calm, so I stopped us on the threshold of her front door. I gripped her shoulders and held her gaze until she let herself take a breath.

"Isabella, this trip is for you. We have no deadlines. We have no specific destination. We have three weeks to do whatever we want, and what I want is for you to let go and relax. Do you understand?" She sighed and nodded, and I smiled at her. "Okay, good. Now, would you please stop panicking and let me get you to Europe."

She smiled. "Yeah, okay." Satisfied, I put my arm around her shoulders and pulled the still-sleepy girl toward my house.

"There you are!" Ferb hailed us when we showed up. "Let's go before we wake up Mum and Dad."

"Yeah, let's get moving," I agreed as I carried Isabella into the main cabin on the zip-line-ski-lift thing. "Can you handle take-off on your own, Ferb? I'm going to help Isabella get settled."

My brother nodded and gestured at his phone. I gathered that he wanted me to call ahead and make sure that Grandpa and Grandma Fletcher knew to expect us a bit late.

"Yeah, I'll check in with them." With that, I pulled a drowsy Isabella to the rollercoaster that lead below deck. The ride woke her up a little, but not much.

The residential floor was constructed to seem like the hallway of a hotel or cruise liner: long, and windowless, with doors on either side and on the far end. Buford and Baljeet's rooms were the first two in the hall opposite each other, Isabella and I had the next two, and Ferb's was at the end of the hall at the front of the craft and below the cockpit. Each room had floor-to-ceiling windows, a drop-down TV the size of one of the walls, a master bathroom, and a mini-bar. Apart from that though, every room was unique and designed specifically to fit the style and preferences of its occupant. Isabella's, for example, was painted in soft lavenders and pale pinks with plush furniture and carpeting. The walls were lined with bookshelves and photo frames, and in one corner was a spiral staircase leading down into her closet, which was the same size as the main room.

I sat Isabella's bed while she showered and dressed. When she came back up to join me she was wearing white shorts with a purple button up shirt, sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Her hair was down and straight, cold against my shoulder from the shower when she stretched out next to me.

Isabella stared absently out the windows for a while. When the ground far below us gave way to ocean, she finally spoke. "I've decided to give you today, this one day, to control our schedule or lack thereof. So… captain, my captain." We both smiled at this. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well, at this rate we're set to arrive at about 7 PM, London time. I thought we'd eat all eat lunch in about an hour or two, so we'll be ready to eat dinner with my grandparents when we get there. Beyond that, we do whatever we want, really." I stroked her damp hair encouragingly. She nibbled her lip nervously, a habit that I had yet to figure out the cause of.

"So… Whatever we want?"

I raised my eyebrow, unsure of what she meant. Then an idea of what she might be suggesting occurred to me and I felt my face warm. No, Phineas! She means what she wants, not what you want. Not that you want that… Or do you? Gah! I don't know! It's Isabella, regardless. She's your best friend! Put it out of your mind, and don't you dare let it back in!

"Um… Yeah, I thinking… Uh, bowling or… shuffleboard! Yes, things like that, you know?" I stammered very un-smooth like. I scratched my ear, my nervous tick, and rolled off the bed. "You want to, uh, go see what Ferb is doing?"

Isabella cocked her head, confused by my behavior, I guessed. "Yeah, sure, I guess." She rose and passed me, leading the way back down the hall. Her scent hit me as she walked by, thoroughly scrambling my thoughts for a moment. Shaking my head to clear it, I followed.

This woman. My best friend. She wasn't the same as when we were little, but she was still the same girl. How could I be thinking about her this way, even if only for a moment? Beyond that, though, there was a strange new feeling, foreign and unfamiliar. It came when I remembered that she was too sensible to think of me that way, ever.

It had always made me so happy that Isabella saw me as her best friend. So why on Earth did that knowledge suddenly hurt?