A/N: Hey all! Thank you for the reviews, I always love to hear it Sorry for a bit of a delay, but I'm hoping to update this a lot more frequently now that Bullies, Nerds, and Rock 'n' Roll is over ( )
Disclaimer: I'm not nearly as cool as Dan and Swampy…
A high-pitched whistle woke Vanessa. With a start, she sat straight up in the bed that did not feel like her own, alarmed that her environment was completely foreign to her. Slowly, the events of the past few days returned to her consciousness, and as her mind began to fill in the blanks, she slowly rose, analyzing her surroundings.
The room was simply laid out, keeping with the masculine theme of the house (she had ascertained that Ferb must have brought her in the room some time after she fell asleep. She felt she should be more concerned with what else he may have done while she was out, but this was Ferb, here. She may not have seen him in years, but she knew him well enough to trust his character). The bed was large and felt comfortable, despite the fact that she was still wearing her office clothes. A broad mirror hung above the dresser across from the bed, and she caught a glance of her appearance. She frowned, noticing how her hair stuck up in random directions, and attempted to brush through it with her fingers before pulling on her boots and making her way out of the bedroom to find her host.
Vanessa found herself in a long hallway, barren but for one doorway that led into the entrance foyer. "Ferb?" she called out softly, but with no answer. She made her way through the sitting room in which they'd shared a long conversation the previous night. She pushed open a door across from the couch where they had been sitting to reveal a lavish kitchen. The black countertops gleamed, rows upon rows of cookbooks perched atop the cabinets, and a grand island took up the middle of the room, behind which, Ferb stood, his back to her.
She smiled as she stepped into the room, catching a whiff of something delicious as her stomach growled loudly. Ferb spun around to face her, spatula in hand and an apron tied neatly around his waist. He smiled softly as her watched her enter the room and gestured at a stool behind the island.
Vanessa gracefully took her seat and Ferb offered to pour her some tea from the kettle that had been the source of the noise that woke her up. She accepted with an amiable, "Thanks, Ferb." She sipped at the tea for a moment, then set it on the counter, a though occurring to her. "Don't you have to go to work or something?" she asked. Ferb frowned and shook his head. "Oh yeah, you're movie did really well, didn't it? You probably don't ever have to work again," she quipped.
"Actually, I—" Toast popped up behind him, cutting off his sentence. He waved his hand in the direction of the food.
"I would love some," Vanessa said, enthused.
The pair ate their breakfast cheerfully. Vanessa chattered happily while Ferb nodded, absorbing her every word and basking in her company.
"Is this some sort of British recipe?" she inquired at one point. "I don't think I've ever had eggs like this. They're really good."
"Oh goodness, no," Ferb stated, unabashed. "British food is absolutely dreadful. This is my own recipe."
"Well," Vanessa said with a smirk. "You're British, aren't you? Wouldn't that make your own recipes, by extension, British?"
He chuckled lightly. "Well, I don't really consider myself a Brit or a Yank. I'm just Ferb."
Vanessa laughed. "Wow, what's got you so chatty?" He never heard her laugh before. He decided he liked it very much.
"Well Ferb, you sure know how to play a good host," she said. "I should head out though, I don't want to impose." Ferb nodded, a flicker of disappointment appearing in his eyes.
"I really enjoyed this, though," Vanessa continued. "I really think…I really think this was good for me, you know? I needed some time away from…well, from myself." She glanced up at Ferb and smiled. "I think I'll be sticking around for a few days, though. We should really get together." Ferb nodded, then extended him arm so that he could walk her to the door. "What a gentleman," she murmured, slipping her arm through his.
So she had not gotten her advice after all. Yet, she felt an enormous weight off her shoulders. As she drove away, intent on finding a decent hotel not too far from her friend's estate, she conceded that, while she still had some work to do, the way that Ferb had been able to transport her back to that time when she felt confident in her attitudes made her breath easier. She most definitely planned to see him again. He had a way of opening her up so that she could express her darkest insecurities and deepest thoughts and not feel at all vulnerable.
Not only that, but she knew she needed to talk with him more. With, him—not to him. Whenever Ferb decided, however regrettably infrequently, to say something, it was always a clever, meaningful statement: something that needed to be said. It was what made his advice—and his friendship—so valuable; he didn't just throw words away on a whim.
Unlike herself, she reflected. She had jabbered on and on while he sat patiently, listening. She supposed he must have a lot of practice. Between his neurotic sister and energetic brother, she was surprised he could get a word in edgewise.
Still, he'd appeared to enjoy her company, and he welcomed her into his home without any reservation. It was touching, really, how sweetly he'd sat there while she droned on, and really listening, too. Not just pretending to placate her. Ferb was a man of few words, but also a man of great character. She felt almost honored by this, and, with a slight pang of the guilt she'd been able to forget for the past few hours, she realized this was the first thing she'd felt truly grateful for in years.
She turned into the driveway of a hotel, parked the car and silenced the ignition. She stayed there for a moment, though, perturbed by the sudden silence. As she put her keys into her jacket pocket, her fingers brushed against something lightly. Frowning, she removed a folded piece of paper from her pocket. She unfolded it, the corners of her mouth turning up in a grin as she recognized what it was.
Smooth handwriting headed a set of instructions:
Not-British Eggs
Vanessa smiled contently. "Thanks, Ferb," she muttered.
A/N: So? What's you think? Let me know ;)
